


Fire And Ice

by EllanaSan



Series: Ice Skating AU [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Skating, F/M, Ice Skating, also probably crack with a plot, figure skating, if that is a thing, skating champions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:06:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 123,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Former figure skater champion Haymitch Abernathy is enjoying retirement when Katniss Everdeen drags him back to the rink. Will he be able to coach Katniss and Peeta to victory? Will he be able to deal with the tensions between Katniss and Peeta? And, above all, is he ready to face his former partner, Effie Trinket, and the life he left behind fifteen years earlier?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story which proves I am seriously crazy because, yes, it is an ice skater au. And it is cracky but hopefully it will also be fun ;) It is very loosely inspired by The Cutting Edge. 
> 
> Just a word of explanation before we start: the story in present time takes place in 2013 for Olympic years purposes. The flashbacks are in italics and will be out of order and mostly cover 1997 and 1998. Again, it’s out of order. The past will be reconstructed piece by piece ;) Trust me a little. We’re going experimental with this. I tried to make it clear when everything takes place past-wise. 
> 
> Also, I did a looot of researches but I am not an ice skate expert so you will have to excuse any inaccuracy. The vocabulary was also specific and I found that challenging so if you spot mistakes or anything that seems odd, don’t hesitate to (kindly) tell me since I’m still not native ;) I think it should be okay but you never know =)
> 
> I want to save a special word of thanks for 100years-to-live who was this story’s cheerleader and who helped a lot to keep the crack alive – and to push me down the ice skating trash can. And, of course, a huge thank you for Holycheekbones who made the amazing cover image for this story and I loved it sooo much. 
> 
> Last thing, some of the performances described in the story are inspired by real routines. In which cases, the vids will be included in the tumblr posts so check that out if you’re interested ;) 
> 
> And the very last thing I promise and then I’m done babbling, I really had fun writing this story and I hope you will have fun too. It features Everlark more heavily than I usually do but it came that way. Hayffie will still be the main pairing though. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Oh, _for fuck’s sake!”_ Haymitch shouted, his voice booming loud enough in the stadium to cover the music. “Get your _shit_ together, Katniss!”

Not daring to take her eyes away from Peeta for too long, Katniss threw him a dark look nonetheless, putting more strength in her kick but ultimately knowing she wasn’t cutting it. She went for her double loop automatically, already dreading what would come next, and, sure enough, Peeta outstretched his hand, waiting for her to take it…

She could practically feel their trainer glowering at her from the stands.

She reached out, grabbed Peeta’s hand, felt his muscles tensing as he got ready to pull her closer to lift her, and she tore her hand away, coming to a stop. Peeta winced and stopped too. So did the music.

She put her hands on her hips and waited for the shouts that never came.

“I’m trying.” she said defensively.

“No, you’re _not_.” Haymitch scoffed. “If you think _that_ ’s going to win you Nationals…”

“We won Regionals.” Peeta pointed out.

Their mentor waved that off with a dismissive hand. “No competition. And now _everyone_ ’s waiting for you because of _her_. And no amount of _Girl On Fire_ routine will get you the part this time. You’ve got a little press attention, now you’ve _got_ to step up to the plate or I don’t know what we’re doing here…”

“He’s not on the beat.” Katniss grumbled. “I can’t trust him to lift me up if he’s not on the beat.”

Peeta tossed her a kicked puppy look but she crushed any guilt she could have mustered in the bud. He seemed to have had a free pass with Haymitch ever since they started this thing a few months earlier. It was Haymitch who had found her Peeta to partner with. It was Haymitch who always insisted she didn’t do everything in her power to make this work even though their performance at Regionals, _Girl On Fire_ , had gathered a lot of attention – and that was on _her_ , not on _Peeta_. It was Haymitch who kept _repeating_ they weren’t good enough.

“He _is_ on the beat.” he snarled predictably. “The boy’s not the problem here. _You_ are.” 

Katniss narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, you know what? I’m _done_.”

“Like _hell_ you are!” Haymitch snapped but she was already skating away toward the door. “Get your ass back here!”

She ignored him. She also ignored Peeta’s calls for her to come back.

She didn’t need them to remind her they were only three months away from Nationals, she _knew_. She also knew losing at Nationals wasn’t an option. There was money to be made and Prim would eventually need to go to a fancy medical school.

It took her a long time to cool down and wander out of the locker room, long enough that the hockey team was practicing and there was no more trace of Peeta or Haymitch. She sat in the stands, watching the boys train with something akin to envy, waving back at Gale when he spotted her.

She wasn’t surprised when she felt a presence looming next to her but she refused to look up.

“It’s just not working out.” she said.

Haymitch eased himself on the bench next to her and rubbed his hands together to warm them.

“It’s not working out because you don’t want it to work out.” he insisted.

“Not true.” she retorted, stubborn to the last.

He sighed and fished a flask out of his pocket. They watched the hockey team in silence for a while. He occasionally sipped some liquor and she pretended not to notice how shaky his hands were.

“He’s good.” he commented eventually, nodding to Gale. “Your _friend_.”

She chose not to understand the implications. Gale was her best friend and that had nothing to do with anything. “I’m better.”

“Should have stuck to hockey then.” he snorted.

“Doesn’t pay enough.” she shrugged. Not when you were _a girl_ anyway. She had been playing hockey for almost as long as she remembered, she had switched to figure skating only at sixteen when it had appeared obvious she would go nowhere with a stick and a puck. Katniss had never been good at school but on the ice? On the ice she was _great_. There was something to be done there, coaches had insisted. She had won a few junior competitions as a solo figure skater. After a few seasons in junior league, she had tried senior competitions, she had been noticed by the federation, and she had gradually decided she would make a living out of it because there was a lot of money to be made once you were renown enough to get big sponsors and she had a little sister to get through college. Prim was her top priority. _Always_. She needed to win at Nationals for her. She needed to make _a name_. “You’re not doing your job.”

It was Haymitch’s turn to shrug. “When you came to me, I told you I was out. You insisted.”

The man from the federation who had noticed her at her last solo competition, Plutarch Heavensbee, had referred her to Haymitch. He had said Haymitch had the abilities to make her one of the greatest so Katniss had gone to his house and had hammered on his door until he opened it.

She liked the idea of being coached by Haymitch truthfully. Haymitch Abernathy was something of a legend in the figure skating history. First of all, he had been trained by _Mags Cohen_ _–_ who had won two Olympic gold medals and was now coaching Finnick Odair and Johanna Mason who had scored a gold medal in the _last_ Olympics and had became the _youngest_ medaled contestants _ever_ while they were at it.

Besides, like her, he had began as a hockey player, only making the jump to figure skating after a tragic accident on the ice, and for over two years he and his partner had stunned everyone – they had been outsiders, the ones no one believed in, because even though Effie Trinket had already been famous at the time, although rumored finished, _he_ had meant nothing to the figure skating community. He had been _a joke_ : the drunk hockey player.

They had made _everyone_ shut up. They had won medal after medal. Nationals. World Championships. A few competitions in between and then everyone’s dream and certainly Katniss’ : the Olympics. They had scored silver and that was when everything had changed even though nobody knew why. Haymitch had left the competition life as well as the public sphere and had hardly ever been heard of since.

Katniss had been flabbergasted, when Plutarch had given her his address, to find out they lived in the same town. She had been less than impressed with him when he had finally opened his door after almost fifteen minutes of her hammering on it though. He had been drunk and disheveled and had slammed the door in her face before she had even finished introducing herself. It had taken three visits and the threat of knocking him out with a hockey stick for him to relent long enough to _listen_.

Honestly, she didn’t know what had made him agree to watching her skate. Maybe it was the shared hockey past, maybe it was the desperation in her voice she hadn’t exactly hidden when she had told him about her sister and the expenses that it mostly fell on her to cover… Nevertheless, he had agreed and she had performed.

When she had finished, he had shrugged and had declared she had as much charm as a dead slug and that if she wanted to do anything in the figure skating field she needed a partner, someone who could make her look a little more desirable. He had poked around the grapevine and found a boy who was looking for a partner for the upcoming Regionals and that was how Peeta had gotten on board – Peeta who had been figure skating since he was young, who was so much more talented than she was and who was by far _too_ _nice._ She had told Haymitch she hated the idea and he had told her to suck it up.

Regionals had seemed to prove him right. They had won easily, the _Girl On Fire_ performance getting them enough attention that sponsors had started approaching them. Nationals would decide everything though. They needed to rank high enough to be one of the two couples sent to the World Championships or everything would have been for nothing – and with Mason and Odair competing, it left only _one_ free spot, really.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked, nodding at what was happening on the ice. “Hockey?”

A dark cloud passed on his face and he took another sip of whatever he kept in that flask. “No.”

“Because of what happened during your last game?” she pressed.

It wasn’t difficult to find out details about anyone’s life nowadays, not when they had their own Wikipedia page. Haymitch had stopped hockey after a particularly brutal match in which he had accidentally propelled another player against the safety glass. The guy’s helmet hadn’t been properly fixed and the hit had been hard enough that the man had finished in a coma and eventually declared brain dead. The fact that it was an accident was undeniable but when it had come out that Haymitch had been drunk during the game, his career had been over.

“Look, sweetheart, we’re not here to talk about me.” he scowled. “I told you I didn’t want to coach anyone and you harassed me into saying yes – and I say _harassed_ but I should say _threatened…”_ He gave her a meaningful look and she rolled her eyes. “You want this to work, you need to learn how to trust the boy.”

“And _you_ need to _coach_ us.” she sighed. “We need an Olympic champion not a drunk mentor.”

“Then you got the wrong man for the job.” he scoffed. “ _I_ ’ve never been a _champion_ , that was all _her_.”

“Your partner?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, curious. “You never talk about her.”

“’Cause there’s nothing to say.” he grumbled. “If you show up tomorrow, show up ready to work. I don’t like wasting my time.”

He stood up and left, leaving her to watch the hockey practice, anxious for it to finish so she could go play with Gale. It was a shame he would never agree to quit hockey for figure skating because she would have trusted _him_ to catch her and toss her in the air.

°o°

“So?” Peeta asked nervously.

The boy was leaning against the truck, his sport bag waiting at his feet. Haymitch shrugged.

“She’ll come around.” he said.

Peeta didn’t look convinced. “She doesn’t want a partner, Haymitch.”

“She doesn’t know _what_ _to_ _do_ with a partner.” he argued, walking around his truck, rummaging in his pockets for the keys. “That’s different.”

“She was a hockey player for how long? That requires team work.” the boy frowned. “Look… Don’t get me wrong, I _like_ her… But _she_ doesn’t like _me._ I don’t know what I did to her but… _”_

_“_ Having a team isn’t the same thing as having a partner.” he muttered, his fingers finally closing on his keys. “You can be on your own and still be part of a team but it takes two to tango.” He snorted at his own bad joke, somehow relieved that the kid looked clueless. “She’ll come around.”

He was confident she would eventually realize what was the best for that sister of hers and _that_ was trusting him when he said solo competitions weren’t for her. She was good but with a partner she would be better. She needed the support even if she didn’t realize it yet.

“I hope so.” Peeta sighed. “Can you drop me home?”

“No.” he refused immediately. He had drunk too much to drive anyone anywhere. _He_ shouldn’t be driving as it was but then again there was a lot of things he shouldn’t be doing – like going anywhere near an ice rink. “See you tomorrow, kid.”

He slammed the door shut and turned the engine on, not looking back in the rearview mirror at the boy he was leaving behind.

He didn’t even know what he was doing there. He had left that life behind after the disaster of the 98 Olympic Winter Games, fifteen years earlier, and had remained in self imposed isolation ever since, mostly living on the savings he had made during his glory days. Aside for the occasional visit from Chaff and the once in a blue moon call from Plutarch – at least _before_ he had permanently unhook the phone – he lived like a hermit and that suited him. As long as he had liquor, good books and peace, he was somehow content.

And then had come stubborn Katniss Everdeen who wouldn’t take _no_ for an answer.

He didn’t know why he had caved. Or maybe he did… Former hockey player, desperate to make a living for herself to help her family, raw talent… It hit too close to home. He saw too much of himself in her. He related too much. So he had said yes. He had said yes when he had said no so many times before.

But being back in that world, being back in _that_ particular rink stadium… The smell of the ice, its cold bite on his face, the noise of the blades as they speeded and jumped and turned… It made him want to reach inside his pocket and take out his flask.

Everything was a reminder.

Everything brought him back to the past and he could have frankly done without.

°o°

_“So…” Caesar started, letting his sentence trail into an inviting silence._

_Haymitch blinked, blinded by the spotlights overhead. The armchairs were too soft and he slumped in his in a way that would irritate both Effie and their coach. He could glimpse Mags, backstage, pursing her lips in annoyance and tossing him the same disappointed looks she had been shooting him since he had announced his decision. Next to him, his partner was making a visible effort to keep her back straight and her chin high but then again_ he _didn’t have twenty years of ballet lessons under his belt._

_He waited for Effie to speak because that was how interviews usually went – she led and he followed – but this time was different, everyone knew it and she remained silent._

_“Let’s cut down to the chase, shall we?” Caesar said when it became clear neither of them would catch the ball he had thrown. How many times had they been there over the last two years and a half? How many times had they sat in front of Caesar and answered his questions? How many victories had they celebrated on this very same set? How many losses had they tried to explain? “First of all, let me congratulate you on your amazing performance at the Olympics… It was_ truly _a sight to behold.”_

_That was usually the moment when Effie would have flashed her dazzling smile and offered a modest reply. Caesar was met with a silent brick wall. Her face was blank, the polite smile on her lips only there for appearance’s sakes._

_Haymitch’s eyes kept dropping to her wrist but no matter how many times he looked the charm bracelet was gone. It hurt more than he had thought it would._

_“Not good enough for gold.” he snorted._

_“Well…” Caesar smiled with indulgence. “Everyone knew the Russians would be a tough competition. And you_ did _beat the other American couple, Enobaria and Brutus, who were given favorite despite your two times World Champions title…”_

_“Yeah, there’s that.” he shrugged. Enobaria and Brutus hadn’t even ranked on the podium._

_Caesar waited for a moment, obviously expecting Effie’s input and when it was clear nothing would be forthcoming on that front, he cleared his throat and leaned in a little as if to invite confidences. Haymitch hated the whole shebang: the theatrics and the stereotypical public personas. That wasn’t something he would miss._

_“We heard a lot of rumors in the last few weeks…” the host said in a soft voice. “Of course, the Olympics put an enormous amount of stress on the both of you but…”_

_“The rumors are true.” Haymitch cut him off, impatient to be freed from that hell. “I’m retiring.”_

_Caesar looked slightly taken aback and Haymitch wondered if he had truly thought the rumors were only that. Sports specialists had been debating the pros and cons ever since it had first came out that he and Effie weren’t training together anymore – they were public figures, it came with the territory. Hell, they had been debating since he had left Japan before the closing ceremony even took place…_

_“You are only twenty-five…” Caesar chuckled. “That’s a bit young for retirement.”_

_“That’s how it is.” he retorted firmly._

_The host’s amusement vanished quickly. “You have a promising career ahead of you, Haymitch. Everybody thought you were finished when you quitted hockey and yet you proved us wrong. Not to mention you might still compete in the next World Championships and perhaps it’s pushing it a little but the next Olympic Games aren’t that far away, surely you…”_

_“My decision’s definitive.” he interrupted him again._

_“Manners.” Effie hissed, finally breaking out of her muteness._

_Fortunately for him, it gave Caesar another subject to explore. Unfortunately for her, it meant she was now the host’s target. “And how do you feel about this, Effie?”_

_Haymitch scoffed. Where were they? At a shrink session?_

_“Haymitch’s decision is his own.” Effie answered quietly. “It is not my place to approve or disapprove.”_

_Caesar leaned back in his own chair, watching her with over the top compassion. “You say this but you can’t deny that there have always been rumors about the nature of your relationship…”_

_“Our relationship has always been strictly professional.” she declared coldly. “As we have stated times and times again. We are colleagues and friends nothing more.”_

_Her smile never faltered but the way she looked at him was threatening enough that Caesar wisely switched to another subject. “Does it mean you will be looking for a new partner, Effie? Or are you retiring too? At only twenty-three, it would be a shame…”_

_Haymitch waited for her to rebuke Caesar, to remind him mentioning a lady’s age was the upmost of bad manners but she was clearly off her game that day. Her voice remained clipped, her face set in a neutral, almost distant, expression._

_“I am looking for a new partner.” she confirmed._

_With a few more sentences Caesar wrapped up the interview and launched an advertisement break. They all shook hands and an assistant ushered them backstage. Effie stormed away as soon as they had been freed from their mics._

_He watched her walk away from him and Mags in her ridiculous pink skirt, knowing it was the last he would ever see of her._

_She hadn’t looked at him once._


	2. Chapter 2

“I think we’re getting better.” Peeta offered tentatively as they sat on the plastic bench to get their skates off.

Katniss let out a grunt that didn’t commit to anything and he breathed out a small sigh. At least she had trusted him enough to jump this time. They hadn’t nailed the triple loop jump yet – he caught her and tossed her but she never managed to land on her right leg and she had spent most of the training crashing on the ice. Haymitch had walked out halfway through, muttering about lost causes.

He waited for her to pick up the conversation but that never happened – not that he was surprised, Katniss wasn’t the most talkative person, they had been training together for a couple of months and she had only offered a handful of personal information.

“You’re playing today?” he asked, tugging on the shoelaces that were resisting his stiff fingers.

Her head shot up at that and she watched him with something akin to suspicion. “How do you know I play hockey?”

He lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. “You often wait for your friend, I didn’t think it was a secret.”

She studied him a while longer and then relaxed a little. “It’s not. Sorry.” She kicked off the skates and pulled on her boots. “They’re not training today.”

He almost asked if she wanted to do something with him then – he would have used the team building excuse but the truth was he found her puzzling and he would have liked to be allowed a little closer. She was his partner but she kept him at arm’s length and that would never work. He would have liked for them to be friends.

“Have you checked out our competition yet?” he asked, tugging harder on the laces. It only tightened the knot.

“Mason and Odair are unbeatable.” she replied at once, before rolling her eyes. “Give that to me before you squeeze it so tight we’ll need to cut your leg off.” Slightly surprised, he lifted his leg and settled it on her lap. She made a quick job of untying the knot and nudged his foot off her knees, still talking. “The pair we have to worry about is Cato and Clove. The others, I think we can beat easily enough.”

“I agree.” he nodded, relieved to get his socked clad foot out of that skate. He flexed it a little, rotating his ankle this way and that. He would need to put ice on it later. “There are videos of Cato and Clove on YouTube… They worry me the most to be honest.”

Katniss let out a soft sigh, her fingers drumming impatiently on her knee. “Do you _know_ who is coaching them?”

“Enobaria and Brutus.” he confirmed. “I heard the same.”

“And do you know who _they_ are?” she insisted as if he was completely missing the point.

“Former partners?” he frowned. “They won quite a lot of things…”

“They were competing at the same time Haymitch and Effie Trinket were.” she explained and given her tone he supposed that was something she expected him to _know_. “They were their direct challengers and Haymitch beat them _a lot_ which means you can be _sure_ they will be out for _our_ blood.”

“There is nothing we can do, is there?” he shrugged, finally slipping his foot in the boot and attacking the other skate. If her impatient glances were anything to guess by, he was too slow for her taste.

“Haymitch isn’t coaching us at one hundred percents.” she said. “And Cato and Clove have _two_ trainers.”

“So you want to hire someone else?” he frowned, not sure how he felt about that. It felt like a betrayal.

She pursed her lips in a tight line, her grey eyes hard as she fished her phone from her bag. “I want you to look at something. It was tough to get… Prim had to help, I’m hopeless with computers…” He waited as she typed on her phone and finally slid closer to him on the bench so they could both watch the screen at the same time. He tried to focus on the video and not on the feeling of her body completely pressed against his side. One would think he would be used to her closeness yet but she kept herself so much at bay he wasn’t. “There are others but this one is my favorite. It’s from the 98 World Championships. That’s the performance that made them serious contestants to the 98 Games.”

The video wasn’t the best quality and the music sizzled a little but Peeta eventually identified it as Carmina Burana, daring choice for a free program when everyone at the time stuck to overused classical music. There was something magical to their performance and they watched in silence. When the video was over, Katniss tapped to play it again.

“It’s odd to think it’s Haymitch.” he whispered.

There was no comparing their trainer with the man on that screen. For one thing, the skater on that video looked _happy_ , the whole performance reflected that.

“They complete each other.” Katniss commented. “They use each other’s strength. Look at that lift.”

He wondered how many times she must have seen the video to know their performance so well because, surely enough, in the next second, Haymitch grabbed his partner and tossed her in the air like she weighted nothing only to catch her, twist her over his shoulder and glide away. They were beautiful, _magnetic_. The connection between them was undeniable. They were perfectly in synch: the turns, the jumps, the loops, _everything_. There was no hesitation between them. She handed her hand without looking, she surrendered to him completely and he met that trust with complete assurance. The looks they shared…

“They were great.” Peeta said. “Do you know why…”

“Nobody knows.” Katniss shrugged. “But I was thinking… Look, Haymitch isn’t cutting it now but he was clearly cutting it _then_.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she wanted to do. “What is she doing now?”

“I’m not sure.” Katniss admitted. “Prim tried to help me track her down on the computer but if she’s still in the business, she’s not doing it at competition levels.”

“Have you asked Haymitch?” he suggested.

“Are you kidding?” she snorted. “Last time I brought her up, he shut me out.”

“So he hates her for all we know and you think bringing her on board is a fantastic idea…” he grinned with fondness.

She rolled her eyes and looked back down at the screen, taping to bring the video back at the beginning. “They called them _Fire and Ice_ , you know, that was their nicknames. Together they were unstoppable.”

_Carmina Burana_ echoed again in the deserted ice rink stadium.

_Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket_ … It had been a long time since he had heard those two names together. They _had been_ a force to reckon with though and they _had been_ opposites in everything at first: hockey player and career figure skater… A little like them. If anyone could make Katniss and him _that_ great…

“Okay.” he surrendered in a sigh. It was a bad idea, he knew it, but she was his partner and they were supposed to go through fire together, that was how it worked. “Do you have a plan?”

He was rewarded with a small smile. “Well, Plutarch Heavensbee gave me his number and he’s been in the federation _forever_ …”

Peeta looked at her for a long time. That was probably the longest conversation they ever had. “You could have called him already…”

“I wanted to talk to you about it first.” she said, averting her eyes, slightly uncomfortable. “We’re supposed to take decisions together. We’re partners, right?”

“Right.” he answered, feeling a knot untying in his stomach. Maybe they could do this after all. If the simple thought of bringing Effie Trinket on board made Katniss act like this was a true partnership, he couldn’t wait until she _actually_ got here.

°O°

_“Effie.”_

_She landed on her right leg and it crumbled under her weight, sending her skidding on the ice. She immediately stood up, pretending Mags had simply startled her. She winced when she realized her trainer wasn’t alone and she skated closer to the edge of the rink where her coach and the man were waiting, schooling her feature into delighted surprise and ignoring the pain in her knee. She also pretended she didn’t notice the worried look Mags shot at her leg._

_“Mr Heavensbee!” she exclaimed, her fake smile becoming a little more genuine._

_As far as federation officials went, she liked Plutarch Heavensbee well enough._

_“Miss Trinket.” he nodded with his usual cheer. “I was on my way to visit your mother and I thought a little detour was in order. I was just asking Mrs Cohen how your knee was holding up…”_

_“My knee is perfectly healed, thank you.” she answered in a clipped tone. Her fake laugh boomed in the room, reverberating against the wall of the private skating rink. “I am afraid they declared me dead a little too early.”_

_The press certainly had a field day with her injuries. The pictures had been plastered on the front of sports magazines for weeks until some reporter had decided she was done with professional skating and everyone had agreed wholeheartedly. Sponsors had pulled out, leaving her to rely on her family’s fortune rather than her own money – which she hated._

_“Will you be coming back next season then?” Plutarch inquired politely._

_“We are exploring our avenues.” Mags intervened._

_“I fully intend to compete next season.” Effie countered, stubborn on that account._

_Her mother was against it, naturally, insisting Effie would simply hurt her career further. Without Seneca, she was nothing, Elindra insisted – and Elindra had two Olympic gold medals to boost so she would know. She and Seneca had been training together since they were ten. She had never had another partner. Had it been the other way around, had Seneca been the one to injure himself, she would have liked to think she would have waited for him to heal before taking off to find another partner less than three weeks later – all the more so_ Viola Summercket _who had always been her greatest rival._

_Effie’s only consolation was that she had sent him packing with the engagement ring he had had the nerves to pop out at the last moment. She was still angry about that. What had he been thinking? Lose a partner, win a husband? Effie had dreams, big dreams, and if Seneca wasn’t in it for everything then he wouldn’t feature in it at all. And it didn’t matter that her mother disapproved, that she thought Effie had been stupid or that her Olympic dream had always been a chimera and that she should have taken what she could: Seneca had, after all, a promising career ahead of him and a huge bank account._

_Still, it had been hard to part with Seneca professionally as well as privately – almost harder than missing a jump and crumpling on the ice, her right knee completely busted for everyone to see._

_“We are auditioning new partners.” Mags tempered, calm as always. “If we miss a season, it won’t be the end of the world.”_

_What she truly meant was that they were_ desperately _looking for someone who would accept to skate with her. She was rumored finished. No one worth it was willing to take the chance._

_“I see.” Plutarch said in a knowing tone that immediately gritted on her nerves. Who knew what everyone was saying at the federation? She was a national champion, people always had things to say about that. “Well, I wouldn’t dare keep Elindra waiting.” He winked at her as if it was a good joke, as if her mother’s dragon-like tendencies were funny. Perhaps it was to someone who didn’t have to share a house with her – and it didn’t help that the house and the estate were huge; somehow, there was never anywhere far enough to escape Elindra Trinket. “_ Do _let me know if I can do anything for you, Miss Trinket.”_

_“Thank you_. _Have a nice day, Mr Heavensbee.” she replied politely – because she had manners._

_She skated away, considering the conversation over on her end. She went back to the center of the rink and made a point of making a double loop jump, almost sighting in relief when her leg held on landing. She went on with her pointless solo training, trying to learn how to compensate for her weak knee. She could feel his eyes riveted on her._

_“I will keep an eye out for a suitable partner.” he told Mags, low enough that Effie supposed she wasn’t meant to hear. “If I can find someone, I will let you know. It would truly be a shame.”_

_“Thank you, Plutarch.” Mags smiled. “I would appreciate the help.”_

_Effie_ didn’t _appreciate the help but they were grasping at straws._

_“You know…” she said once he had left the private training building to trek the long path leading back to the mansion. “I could always go into solo skating.”_

_It was a joke and they both knew it. You didn’t train your whole life for something and then switch career like that. Effie knew how to skate with someone – with Seneca – and that was it. And she was terrified it_ would _be it._

_Mags shook her head at her with a fond smile. “Watch that leg when you land, girl.”_

_She jumped again in answer. Her knee tinged but held and she did it again and again, determined to nail the move just as well as she had done before her injury._

_“Perhaps Plutarch Heavensbee will pull out a miracle.” she chuckled after a while. “Perhaps he will find me a partner who will give me my Gold.”_

_“Stranger things have happened, girl.” Mags smiled. “Stranger things have happened…”_

°O°

“Effie Trinket speaking?” she said distractedly, wedging her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she climbed in her sport car. She discarded her files on the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt, already rummaging in the glove compartment for her Bluetooth earpiece.

_“Good morning, Effie!”_

She froze, her fingers closing on the piece of plastic.

“Plutarch.” she greeted, almost apprehensive. “Is there a problem? Is Mother…”

_“Oh, your mother was perfectly well the last time we spoke, Effie, don’t worry. Terrorizing everyone in Europe if I am not mistaken.”_ he hurried in reassuring her. _“That is not why I am calling.”_

Despite everything, she breathed a sigh of relief. She and her mother weren’t exactly on speaking terms but she didn’t wish ill on her. She secured the earpiece behind her ear and tossed the phone on the passenger seat with her files before starting the car.

“What can I do for you?” she asked more cheerfully.

“ _Hopefully a lot_.” he chuckled. _“Have you been keeping up with the contestants for nationals?”_

She thought that over as she left the parking lot for the main road. “Johanna Mason and Finnick Odair are clear favorites. Mags is very happy with their training from last I heard of her.”

It was amazing the work her former coach had managed to do with them given the stroke she had suffered a few years earlier. Finnick was a good boy though and he helped Mags a lot. Effie loved him, she liked Mason less but Johanna wasn’t _that_ bad either. She was an acquired taste, she supposed. She reminded her a little of… She crushed that thought in the bud.

_“What about the younger contestants?”_ Plutarch insisted.

She didn’t understand where he was going with that and so she frowned a little, her attention shifting from the traffic ahead of her to this odd conversation. Traffic in Aspen was always difficult in winter. “Enobaria and Brutus’ protégés are promising.” She had to rack her brain to remember their names. “Cato and Clove, isn’t it? She has beautiful lines.”

“ _Did you hear anything at all about Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark?”_ he insisted, a touch of frustration in his voice.

She drew a blank. Then again, she hadn’t been keeping tabs on the competitions as she used to.

“I am afraid not, I am more focused on juniors nowadays.” she answered. “It _is_ my job after all.”

“ _Training twelve years old only to dispatch them to other trainers once they get promising isn’t a job, Effie. As your mother and I have told you times and times again, it is a waste of your talents.”_ Plutarch argued.

“I happen to like coaching children.” she retorted. “What else am I supposed to do? Submit to my mother’s expectations? Find a husband, settle down and leave skating for good?”

It wasn’t the first time they had this conversation and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Plutarch was a good friend but he meddled too much.

_“Coach at your level.”_ Plutarch retorted. _“Where are you?”_

“Driving home.” she answered. “Why?”

_“Park somewhere, watch the video I am sending you and then call me back.”_ he ordered, hanging up before she could agree to anything. How _rude_. It wasn’t like Plutarch to be so rude. It wasn’t like him to be so enthusiastic either.

With a sigh, she found the closest empty slot and parked. She fumbled with her phone for a couple of minutes, searching her mails for Plutarch’s… The video was already waiting for her there. It took a few seconds for it to load. It was a federation official video, the Upper Great Lakes Regionals if she wasn’t mistaken. _Girl On Fire_ , Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. She settled back in her seat to watch. She was distracted at first, not sure why Plutarch would send her a video of young people she had never seen in her life. It didn’t take her long to figure it out, it was glaring: the blatant potential. Chiseled, those two could be amongst the greatest.

She called Plutarch’s back. He picked up at the second ring. “ _So? What do you think?”_

“I think you always had an eye for talent.” she answered cautiously. “And I also think you don’t need me to tell you that. So let me ask you again… What can I do for you, Plutarch?”

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. _“You were always one of my absolute favorites, I hope you know that.”_

“Contrary to popular belief, flattery won’t get you anywhere with me.” she grinned. “Are they looking for a trainer? Is that it?”

“ _They already have a trainer.”_ Plutarch replied. _“But they could all use some help. Katniss is difficult and Peeta tends to follow her lead. You saw the video…”_

“This is not a successful partnership.” she concurred. “But it could be.”

_“Yes. Exactly. You have experience with difficult partnerships.”_ he said.

She closed her eyes and swallowed with difficulties. She could still hear the announcers’ voices as if it had only happened yesterday: _Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy, Fire and Ice…_ She had never known who was supposed to be fire and who was supposed to be ice. They both had some of each.

“I swore I was done with high level competitions.” she reminded him.

_“And this was an idiotic decision.”_ Plutarch chuckled. _“Besides… I am not asking you to go on that rink and compete yourself. I am asking you to help those children on their path to greatness.”_

She sighed and tinkered with the phone until she could play the video again. There _was_ potential. The girl had something… Girl on fire… The nickname suited her well and would probably follow her.

“Who is their current trainer?” she asked. “Won’t they mind me butting in?”

_“Ah. That’s actually a little bit of a conundrum. I would rather you fly there and see for yourself.”_ She could hear the wince in his voice and that made her frown. _“The children asked me to contact you though, if it’s any help. They are big fans.”_

She closed her eyes. “Please, _do_ tell me their trainer isn’t Viola Summercket.”

Plutarch laughed. _“No. Last I heard, she was still in L.A. trying to get her acting career on track.”_

“Are you one hundred percents sure this is worth it?” she asked. Her job wasn’t a problem. She was well-off and she had assistants who could take care of her current students. But she was loathe to make the trip for nothing.

_“I am one hundred percents sure the children are worth it.”_ Plutarch answered. _“And I am at least fifty percents sure you will thank me for sending you there. Eventually.”_

“You are scaring me.” she admitted.

_“You have to take leaps of faith, Effie.”_ he told her gently. _“You trusted me in the past. Trust me again.”_

_I trusted you and I ended up with a silver medal and a broken heart for my trouble_ , she wanted to say but it wasn’t Plutarch’s fault and thus she remained silent _._

“Where am I flying to?” she relented.

_“Richmond, Virginia.”_

“Richmond.” she repeated. “Is this a joke?”

_“A coincidence.”_ Plutarch offered. _“It is not my fault if the best skaters are in Virginia.”_

Richmond.

A long way from Colorado, she remembered having thought that once already.

A leap of faith was an accurate way to put it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thrilled so many of you liked the first chapter! I hope you will have liked this one too! The "Carmina Burana" performance is based on Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peizerat's performance. I linked it on my tumblr post but you can also find it on YouTube if you're interested =)
> 
> Next chapter, the reunion will take place... How do you think that will go? Did you like this one? Let me know!


	3. Chapter 3

**_3._ **

Haymitch glanced at his watch and rubbed his eyes, slumping further in his seat. They had been training for five hours and they would need to pack up soon to leave the rink to the hockey team. They had made absolutely zero progress that day. 

He watched at Katniss took the jump for what felt like the hundredth time that day and, just like every other time, Peeta caught her just fine, tossed her with a little too much strength and she twirled in the air only to painfully land on her side when she failed to put her leg under her. The boy hurried over and pulled her up by the hands. They exchanged a few words, too low for him to hear what they were saying but given the way Katniss was rubbing her butt it was probably reassurances that she hadn’t broken anything. He opened his mouth to tell them exactly how much they sucked but was beaten to the curb. 

“Well, that won’t do.” a high-pitched voice declared. He turned around and watched the blond woman walking down the stairs, perched on high heels, blinding in her pale pink coat. “What is the first rule of pair skating?” 

Haymitch blinked, his mouth suddenly parched. He was vaguely aware of the kids turning in her direction, tossing him uncertain glances, but he could only  _ stare _ . For a moment, he thought he was having a flashback or a hallucination – that had happened a few times when he had pushed himself to the limits of wasted, when his mind played tricks on him. It was  _ there _ that he had seen her for the first time. On those very steps, in his home town’s ice rink stadium. 

Effie Trinket kept descending those stairs like she owned the room – some things, at least, never changed – a small frown on her face. 

“Well?” she prompted when she reached the security rail surrounding the rink. “What is the first rule of pair skating, children? And where  _ on Earth _ is your coach?” 

“Protect the girl.” he answered automatically. 

He hadn’t talked loud but the silence was such that his voice carried. He heard her breath catching in her throat and she turned slowly in his direction. It was obvious she hadn’t spotted him before. It was also obvious she hadn’t expected him to be there. She schooled her features quickly enough but he had spent years learning what the slightest twitch of her eyebrows meant. It wasn’t the sort of thing you ever forgot. 

“Haymitch.” She sounded out of breath, as if she had just run down those stairs rather than walking them down like a queen in her throne room. 

“Sweetheart…” he answered. 

They stared at each other for what felt like the longest time. At some point he realized he was standing but couldn’t remember when he had gotten to his feet. Her eyes were still as blue as he remembered them even if there were small lines at their corners the make-up wasn’t quite hiding. Her hair was tied up in a fancy bun, she was still thin,  _ delicate _ . Her legs were still endless and she was still beautiful. 

And Haymitch wanted to throw up. 

“What are you doing here?” he scowled, a little too aggressive. 

“Plutarch called me.” she retorted as if it was obvious. She blinked and jutted her chin up in the air. “Now. We are being  _ extremely _ rude, I am afraid.” She turned to the ice, presenting him with her back, and studied the children. He knew from her voice she was smiling and it annoyed him to still be able to tell that much. “Introductions are in order. I am Effie Trinket and you, of course, are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. I must say I don’t usually train people for Nationals but I saw your  _ Girl On Fire _ performance and I have to admit I see something in you. With a lot of work and…”

“For  _ fuck’s _ sake, take a breath before you pass out.” he scoffed. “You still can’t shut up, can you, sweetheart?” 

“And you are still rude beyond measure.” she scowled, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Let’s not dwell on what we cannot change, shall we?”

The kids shared a look and Peeta quickly skated closer to the railing, outstretching his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Effie was immediately charmed. “Oh, proper manners, how  _ refreshing _ .  _ That _ is how it’s done, Haymitch, I hope you realize.”

It was familiar, too familiar, and he remained silent as she greeted Katniss. The girl kept tossing him guilty looks and it wasn’t difficult to understand how exactly Plutarch had had the brilliant idea to hurl Effie Trinket back into his life. 

“I would like to see the program again, if you will.” she requested. 

“Time’s up.” he shrugged. “Sorry for the wasted trip. You can go back to wherever you’re bossing people around these days.”

“One more time, please.” she insisted, focusing on the children and completely ignoring him. 

That’s the moment the stadium doors opened and let in a group of unruly boys with sticks and protective helmets. 

“Sorry, Haymitch’s right.” Peeta winced. “We’re out of time.” 

“You are sharing the rink?” she frowned. “You should be training all day.” 

“It’s expensive enough as it is.” he scoffed. “But if you want to make a donation, please do.” He looked at the kids and sneered. “See you tomorrow. No more surprises of that kind or I’m out. Thanks for the touching reunion.”

He forced himself not to look back. 

Giving her up once had been hard enough. 

He didn’t even make it to the car before he plucked his flask out of his jacket, his fingers were shaking so much he struggled to uncap it. He leaned against the side of his truck, took a deep breath and brought the flask to his lips, letting the burning taste of liquor soothe his nerves. 

She would be gone the next day and everything would be fine. 

He tried to convince himself he was believing it. 

He wasn’t great at  _ belief _ . 

°o°

_ “What the fuck are we doing here?” he grumbled as his best friend and former teammate more or less dragged him inside the building and down to the ice rink. The safety glass was in place for that night’s match and Haymitch shuddered at the sight. It was too easy to remember the blood spatters, the terrified shrieks of the crowd, the voices of his teammates calling for help, the hands shoving him aside… “Chaff. What the fuck did you bring me here for?” _

_ “’Cause I’m done watching you waste away in your misery.” he spat. “You’re not a professional hockey player anymore, so what? Doesn’t mean your life is over, buddy.” _

_ His life was over for more reasons than just that.  _

_ “Sure. I’m just a murderer who narrowly escaped jail.” he snorted.  _

_ “It was an accident.” Chaff sighed. “You know it. I know it. Fuck, everyone in the business knows it. His helmet wasn’t properly on. If he was a fucking moron, that’s not on you. You were drunk, yeah, and then what? You…” _

_ “Stop.” Haymitch cut him off. “I don’t need the pep talk.”  _

_ Chaff narrowed his eyes at him, rubbing his neck with both hands. Training was a bitch on his friend lately. “Yeah, you do. Look, Haymitch… You’re slipping.” _

_ “What if I am?” he snarled. “Not your business, is it?” _

_ So what if he went on benders that lasted days and drank to the point of passing out? What if he was deliberately looking for a way to self combust? What if he just wanted to  _ forget _? What was so wrong with that?  _

_ “That’s where you’re wrong.” his best friend scoffed. “I happen to love your stupid ass so that makes it my business. Enough bullshit, Haymitch, you’re going back on skates. You belong on the ice we both know it.” _

_ “And do what?” he snorted. “Hockey’s all I know.” _

_ Hockey was supposed to be a good way to make money – money that should have paid his brother’s college fees. And now… Now he had savings and he didn’t know what to do with them so he might as well drink all the money away.  _

_ “Yeah, that’s kind of why I brought you here…” Chaff winced. “Look, you won’t like it but…” _

_ The familiar creaking sound of the doors being pushed open made him look up instinctively. The girl was  _ breathtaking _ , there was no other word for it. Blue eyes, endless legs trapped in a warming pink fleece overall with a cream turtle neck underneath, blond hair pinned high on her head… He had been around ice rinks long enough to recognize a figure skater on sight. Their eyes met and he found himself smirking, automatically turning on the charm, before bringing his attention back on his friend.  _

_ “You’re going to spill it or what?” he frowned. “Look, you dragged me here…” _

_ “Well… This is certainly  _ not _ what I am used to.” the girl scoffed, walking down the stairs, followed by a frail looking old woman and a man who was somehow familiar. Haymitch thought he was with the figure skating federation. “I hope you are right and the trip is worth it, Mr Heavensbee, because I must confess I see nothing impressive so far.” _

_ He and Chaff winced at the same time at how high-pitched her voice was, her snobbish accent wasn’t helping matters.  _

_ “Ah, Chaff.” the man said with a bright smile. “How good to see you again. And you convinced him, I see…” He moved past the girl and quickly walked down the stairs to shake his best friend’s hand before turning to him. “Haymitch, I am Plutarch Heavensbee. I  _ do _ hope this will work out. I would hate for a skater of your caliber to be forever banned from the ice and I am convinced you will be a great asset to our federation.” _

_ Haymitch ignored the hand the man outstretched and stared at Chaff who pointedly looked at his own boots.  _

_ “Is it him?” the girl asked, sounding put out. “He is too bulky for a figure skater.”  _

_ “That would be ‘cause I’m no figure skater, sweetheart.” he sneered, shaking his head at his friend. “You’ve pulled better pranks, Chaff. I’ll be at the bar…” _

_ He hopped up the stairs only to find his path blocked by her small figure. She was tinier than he had first thought but that might be because she had a regal bearing. He tried to walk around her but she hurriedly stepped aside to make sure he couldn’t flee.  _

_ “I  _ do _ apologize, I was rude.” she said, her eyes moving from him to that Heavensbee guy. “I would like to understand. We came here to audition a possible partner for me…” _

_ “Yeah, and that’s not me.” he snorted. “I don’t do tights and frills, sorry.” He tried to sidestep her again but she was swift and blocked his path. He lifted his eyebrows. “Don’t think I won’t just carry you out of my way, sweetheart.” _

_ It was half a joke and half a warning but she simply tilted her head. “Do it.” _

_ Peculiar request but he simply grabbed her by the waist, lifted her without any difficulties and placed her on the step next to him, fully intending to continue on his merry way. Her hands locked on his arm with a surprising strong grip, holding him back, and this time he didn’t try to be nice as he turned to glare at her. “What?” _

_ She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “The attitude will have to go. I expect my partners to show manners. You can lift, that is very good. Now… I would like to see you on the ice.” _

_ He chuckled. “Well, I’d like to see you in a bikini but I guess we can’t always have what we want.” _

_ “How  _ improper _.” she huffed. “Can you skate or not?” _

_ “Sweetheart, I’m the best skater there is.” he drawled out, annoyed by her chirpiness.  _

_ “My name is Euphemia Trinket although my friends call me Effie.” she snapped. “Keep your pet names for your girlfriends.”  _

_ “Now…” Heavensbee tried to intervene but he was cut off by Chaff who placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head with a small knowing smile. The great idiot was probably thinking Haymitch was taken by her bitchy attitude – he did tend to have a weakness for difficult women – but that was as far from the truth as could be. She was simply  _ irritating _.  _

_ “You  _ wish _ you were my girlfriend.” he mocked.  _

_ “I wish nothing of the sort, I can assure you.” she hissed. “I am not overly sweet on unkempt uncivilized brutes. Did you lose your razor, I wonder?”  _

_ “Your loss, Princess.” he taunted. “An unkempt uncivilized brute might knock out that stick you’ve got up your ass.” _

_ She glared daggers at him. “Put on your skates and let me see you on the ice right now.” _

_ He almost laughed at that. “Or  _ what _? You’re not the boss of me. I already told you I’m not interested.” _

_ Slowly, her anger morphed in a challenging expression. “I think you are not as good as you claim.” _

_ “Not my problem what you think.” he retorted. “Don’t need you boosting my ego.” _

_ “Haymitch.” Chaff finally intervened. “Give it a go.” _

_ He turned in his friend’s direction. “ _ Figure skating _. Seriously, Chaff? And what did you do? Look for the most annoying girl in the country?” _

_ She bristled next to him.  _

_ “No.” Chaff shrugged. “Just for the only one desperate enough to take you on despite your temper. You’re  _ fucking _ twenty-three. Life doesn’t end at  _ fucking _ twenty-three. They’re dead. You’re not. Let it go. Find something else worth living for.” _

_ “Yeah, ‘cause figure skating is  _ so _ worth living for.” he scoffed. _

_ “A gold medal at the Olympics is.” his best friend shrugged. “That was your dream not long ago, wasn’t it?” He nodded at the girl. “She can bring you there.” _

_ “With figure skating.” he spat dubiously.   _

_ “Hey, it’s not hockey but it’s still skating.” Chaff shrugged again.  _

_ “Excuse me but I dislike being talked about in third person when I am standing  _ right here _.” she cut in, folding her arms over her chest. “And  _ no one _ said you were hired. I am  _ still _ waiting to see what you can do on skates.” _

_ “Please, buddy.” his friend sighed. “It’s better than sitting alone in your house and drinking yourself into an early grave.” _

_ It was the worry in Chaff’s voice that did it. He didn’t have a lot of loved ones left. Chaff was amongst those.  _

_ “Fine.” he sighed. “Fine, I’ll try.” He tossed a warning look in the girl’s direction. “But I’m not a circus monkey.” _

_ “Maybe not a circus monkey.” she muttered. “Perhaps a  _ gorilla _.”  _

_ They glared at each other until the women who had been standing in silence until then, and who briefly introduced herself as Mags, ushered them down to the ice rink. A new problem arose when he was presented with black skates that clearly didn’t belong to him.  _

_ “Figure skates.” Heavensbee clarified. “You will get used to them.” _

_ He highly doubted it. The blade was thinner, the balance was different and the notch things at the edge of the blade were throwing him a little off his game. It took a few lapses of the rink before he felt comfortable enough to go full speed.  _

_ He hadn’t been on the ice since the night of his last game and he had forgotten how much he actually liked it. The sharp cold, the noise of the blade on the ice, the rush of adrenaline as he took a sharp turn chasing after an imaginary puck…  _

_ Except suddenly there was a flash of pink and instead of the puck he found himself chasing after the girl. She was fast and swifter than he expected. She gave him a run for his money and the challenge amused him enough that he stopped playing and gave it his full attention. At some point, she looked back, angling her body so her feet were facing in different directions and she outstretched her arms.  _

_ “Take her hand!” her trainer called from the stands.  _

_ That was easier said than done. Just as his fingers brushed hers, he stumbled on those notch things and ended up sliding on his stomach. To add insult to injury, she skidded to a neat halt next to him.  _

_ “Not bad for a first try.” she granted. “You will need to learn how to use figure skates though. Toe pick.”  _

_ He rolled his eyes and pulled himself to his feet, brushing the ice off his jeans and shirt, ignoring his best friend’s laughter. “Those skates are  _ bullshit _.” _

_ “Language.” She clucked her tongue at him before turning toward their small audience. “What do you think?” _

_ The question was addressed to Mags who was watching him with a thoughtful expression. “He has strength and speed. The rest can be taught if he’s not afraid of hard work. You have chemistry.” _

_ “Chemistry, right.” he mocked, slightly stunned that they were serious about this. He had thought they would make him go on the ice, realize just how stupid the whole thing was and call the whole thing off. He was a hockey player, not a  _ damn _ figure skater. “You do realize I killed someone not two months ago? And that was with  _ a team _ to watch me. Imagine what I will do with only one girl.” _

_ She flinched and threw her coach a startled look but Mags didn’t seem taken aback by that little bit of news.  _

_ “The investigation concluded to an accident, I believe.” the trainer countered.  _

_ “I was drunk.” he spat. He heard Chaff’s frustrated groan from where he was standing.  _

_ “Yes.” Mags nodded. “And that is something you will never be on the rink again. Rule one of pair skating: protect the girl. You are all that stands between her and massive injuries, perhaps death, you will acknowledge and honor that trust.” _

_ “I didn’t say yes.” he pointed out.  _

_ The old woman’s eyes were twinkling with amusement. “You didn’t say no.” _

_ “If you do this, you have to commit.” the girl – Effie – cut in quietly. “I can’t take a chance and… We are talking about my whole career here. If you want to do this, as crazy as it sounds, you have to be in it one hundred percent – that includes moving to Colorado, I have a private ice rink available at all time and I can house you. It also means you will have to follow a certain diet and a training schedule. You have everything to learn so you probably won’t be able to think straight at the end of the day. It’s a lot to ask of someone so I beg of you if you agree to this, be sure.” _

_ “Why me?” he asked.  _

_ “Leap of faith.” she answered with a strained smile.  _

_ “No.” he shook his head. “We do this, you don’t lie to me, sweetheart.” _

_ Her smile faltered for a second and she looked down. “I injured my knee last year. There is no guarantee I will be as good as I used to be. There aren’t many choices. There aren’t  _ any _ choices. It is you or solo skating and, trust me, I have better chances with you.” She glanced up at him with a disapproving look. “Don’t call me sweetheart.” _

_ “So you’ve got a busted knee and you’re going for a hockey player.” he snorted. “Doesn’t look like a leap of faith to me. Looks more like a free fall.”  _

_ “Let’s hope you catch me then.” she challenged. “Rule one. Protect the girl.” _

_ A slow smirk stretched his lips.  _

°o°

“So… That didn’t go as well as we hoped…” Peeta snorted. 

Katniss leaned in to prop her elbows on her knees, her eyes trained on the hockey practice taking place below but her mind far away. Effie had left not long after Haymitch had stormed out, promising to come back the next day, looking slightly upset. 

“That was…” she offered only to let her sentence trail off, at a loss for words. 

“Intense.” he supplied. 

“Not what I expected.” She made a face. “What is their problem anyway?”

“The mystery thickens.” he chuckled. She wriggled a little on her seat, wishing she had thought to bring some ice packs. He frowned. “How’s the hip?”

“Bruised.” she mumbled. “She’s got a point with her  _ protect the girl _ speech.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” he smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe stop throwing yourself at me so fast.” 

She rolled her eyes, annoyed. “And how am I supposed to throw myself at you, then? At a snail pace?” Gale goaled and she gave him a distracted thumb up. “Haymitch looked upset.” 

“They  _ both _ looked upset.” he sighed. “Maybe we should  have just… stuck to our own business.” She hated to admit it but he might be right. She didn’t answer and they watched the training unfolding for a while until Peeta started turning his phone in his hand absentmindedly. “You think there was something between them?”

“They were partners.” she shrugged. 

“No, I mean… Something  _ more _ .” he insisted. “I watched a few of their performances and… I don’t know, it kind of jumped at me.”

She glanced at him and then scowled at the thought. “Relationships always complicate everything. Haymitch isn’t that stupid.”

“Maybe.” Peeta replied. 

He looked wistful. 

She didn’t quite know what to make of that. 


	4. Chapter 4

The ice sang under her blade when she landed from her jump and she went for a loop, slowly raising her arms over her head. She ended the turn with a kick and turned to skate backward, her eyes closed, lost to an inner melody. It was a familiar song : blades on the ice, echoes of her breath in the empty stadium, the pounding of her heart in her ears…

“You’ve kept yourself in shape.”

She planted the top of her blade on the ice, slowly bringing her mindless race to a stop. Her heart was pounding in her chest for entirely different reasons now but she forced herself to open her eyes and face him, schooling her features into detachment. He had been watching her for a few minutes. She could still tell when he entered a room, even after all those years, her senses were still attuned to him, to where he was, what he was doing… She had been waiting for him to speak first. That was why she had showed up to training half an hour early, to get the chance to talk with Haymitch before the children arrived.

“You didn’t.” she replied.

He didn’t look as bad as she had sometimes feared he would when she had allowed herself to imagine randomly meeting him again. The stubble was still out of control, his hair was longer and disheveled, he still looked strong but she could tell he had lost a lot of muscle strength, he was underweight. It was painfully obvious he hadn’t been taking proper care of himself.

The _spark_ in his grey eyes was dulled but it was still there and so was the infuriating smirk on his lips though. How many times had she tried to kiss that smirk away?

He was standing on the ice, right next to the opening leading to the locker room, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

“I didn’t think you would come back today.” he confessed, sounding a little pained.

“I came back for the children.” she declared, a small growl in her voice. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t know _you_ were training them. Plutarch didn’t share that little bit of news. I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

He seemed to hesitate on how to proceed forward. His initial anger from yesterday was gone but she understood he hadn’t truly been angry _at_ _her_ , he had never dealt well with situations where control was wrestled away from him. Stress and panic made him cutting and furious. Oh, he could keep a cool mind during stressful times but he would do it while delivering sharp retorts and clever gibes…

“Is Plutarch still alive or did you bite his head off?” he joked.

“He didn’t answer his phone.” she told him, placing her hands on her hips.

“He was always a clever man.” he snorted.

“Quite.” she grinned.

They shared a smile and, for a second, it was like time had whirled back and Mags would come out any second to berate them about not having warmed up yet. He seemed to have the same thought because his smirk dropped a little.

“Look, sweetheart…” he started and let his sentence trail off, probably hoping that she would help him out of his misery.

It was awkward. _Everything_ was awkward and she hated it. She didn’t deal well with awkward.

She wished he would stop calling her with pet names. Every _sweetheart_ felt like a punch in the chest.

When she talked, her voice was bubbly and she made sure none of her insecurities and sorrows slipped through. “It was fifteen years ago, Haymitch. Surely we have both moved on and we can proceed forward in a mature _professional_ way.”

His eyes were searching for hers but she averted her gaze, staring at the ice instead.

“We never quite got the hang of _professional_.” he snorted.

“Well, we are not twenty anymore.” she replied and, feeling the need to change the subject, she frowned at his boots clad feet. “Where are your skates?”

“Somewhere in the attic.” he shrugged.

“How can you coach them properly from the stands?” she sighed. “Clearly, Peeta’s hands are not in the right place for that lift _and_ you know his left turn is sloppy. You could have showed him how to do it properly.”

And that was only what she had spied of the performance before Katniss had collapsed on the ice.

“Haven’t skated since 98, sweetheart.” he said quietly. This time, it was him who avoided her searching eyes.

She knew he had left professional skating – _of course_ , she knew, she had spent weeks going through every sports magazine in hope of catching a hint of him but he had disappeared from the surface of the Earth and she was pretty sure he had spent years away from the States – but giving up _skating_ was a whole different thing.

“At all?” she insisted.

“At all.” he confirmed. “Without you… It didn’t seem _right_ without you.”

Her breath caught in her throat a little but she refused to acknowledge that tentative peace offering. _She_ wasn’t the one who had given up, she wasn’t the one who had thrown the towel on _everything_.

“What did you do?” she asked. “After… You… _vanished_.”

He licked his lips nervously and shrugged. “I traveled a bit. Spent some time in Europe, toured the bars…”

“Did you go back to Paris?” The question slipped past her lips without her consent. She didn’t want to care if he had gone back to Paris or not. She didn’t…

He shook his head. “No. Couldn’t.”

She nodded thoughtfully, somehow reassured. She hadn’t been back to Paris either since then. Paris was _theirs_ in a way no other place could claim. It was where everything had changed. It was where everything had truly started.

He took his hands out of his pockets abruptly only to rummage in the inner folds of his coat and fish out a flask. She watched as he gulped down a few mouthfuls. The way he was drinking the liquor, the flask, the quivering fingers and the bloodshot eyes… It didn’t take a genius to conclude he was addicted to alcohol. He had already been on that destructive path when they had met but she had hoped he hadn’t fallen back on that clutch.

“I hate that you gave in to that.” she whispered before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, well…” he scoffed. “We all have our demons, right? How’s dear _Elindra_?”

The sneer wasn’t unexpected and it almost made her smile. His hatred for her mother was almost as deep as the one Elindra felt for him.

“She is well, thank you.” she replied politely, only to annoy him.

The conversation stalled to an awkward halt. It was lucky the children arrived right at that moment, in training gear, their skates in their hands. Both Katniss and Peeta freeze in surprise when they found both of them there and she wondered what sort of impression she and Haymitch had made the day before.

“Well…” She clapped her hands once to get everyone’s attention. “There is a lot to do. Let’s not waste any precious time. Warm up and then we can get to work.”

If Haymitch was annoyed by her taking over, he didn’t show it.

°O°

_“We were_ amazing _!” she giggled as they stumbled inside the hotel room. “_ Suzanna _will never win us any awards but it was amazing. They loved us. And they were right to, we were perfect. Don’t you think they loved us?”_

_It had only be a show for a charity, no prizes and no competition but from all the skaters who had performed that night,_ they _were most certainly the ones who had gotten the biggest ovation and whom everyone had talked about. They were daring and bold and everyone loved watching them skate._

_Lately Effie was so happy she was afraid she might burst. The 98 World Championships had been_ easy, _it had been no surprise when they had struck gold even if the Russians siblings, Cashmere and Gloss, had given them a run for their money. And now her dream laid ahead, finally within reach, and she was confident they would win a gold medal at the Olympics. She trusted Haymitch to bring her there._

_“I think you should learn some humility.” he smirked, nudging the door shut with his foot, already getting rid of the tie she had forced around his neck after they had performed earlier. “Plutarch looked happy enough.”_

_“Why wouldn’t he be happy?” she retorted, unclasping her pearl necklace and tossing it on the closest table before turning around and locking her arms around his neck. He immediately wrapped his around her waist, his smirk deepening. “We charmed a lot of sponsors into giving money and in three months we will be in Japan. Can you believe it?” She grinned at the thought of the Games in Nagano. They had been training for this for two years,_ she _had been training for this_ her whole life _. They were ready. She_ knew _they were ready. “Aren’t you happy, Haymitch?”_

_He shook his head at her. “I’ll never get how you can speak so much. Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your voice, sweetheart? Can’t you ever just shut up?”_

_His voice was teasing, his grey eyes sparkling with affection, and she grinned harder, lifting a challenging eyebrow. She jumped and locked her legs around his waist, he steadied her easily – it was a move they had perfected on the ice as well as outside the rink._

_“Make me.” she dared him, leaning in to capture his bottom lip between her teeth. She tugged on it slowly, barely noticing he was carrying her to the bed. He tossed her on it and she laughed._

_She felt drunk on happiness._

_She wriggled out of her cocktail dress as he shed the jacket of his suit and unbuttoned his shirt. He slipped off her heels and she took care of his pants. They were a well-oiled machine in all areas of their partnership. Some might have found it taxing but Effie was_ never _bored with him. She could never get enough of him. His skin, his lips, his hands, his body… Everything he had was hers and everything she had was his. She still felt the same thrill when she kissed him as she had the very first time. And when he touched her…_

_“Stop thinking.” he snorted, pressing hard kisses against her throat and down the valley of her breasts. “You’re always thinking too much.”_

_“That is because I need to think for_ both _of us.” she taunted. “You are never_ _thinking_ enough _.”_

_“I’m thinking this bra would look better on the floor.” he deadpanned, getting her underwear out of the way. “_ Fuck _, I’ve wanted you since that wink you gave me on the ice… Don’t turn me on when we’re skating, Princess. Not fair.”_

_“Please.” she scoffed. “You spend the whole time touching me, running your hands on me… How do you think it makes me feel?”_

_He chuckled, pressing his mouth against hers. “Hot and bothered. That’s the way I like you best.”_

_She would have gladly protested but his kisses made it impossible. She drowned in them and when he started to truly touch her, she drowned in bliss._

_Afterwards, when they were spooning under the blankets, listening to the torrential rain slamming against the hotel’s window, she couldn’t help a content sigh._

_“I want time to freeze.” she confessed._

_“Right now?” He pressed an open mouth kiss to her shoulder, his tongue poking at her skin._

_“Right now is perfect.” she declared. She was grinning so much lately her lips were hurting. “I never knew life could be so perfect. We’re twice World Champions, I lost count of how many trophies we got since we started and we are going to Japan to win a gold medal. We are young. We have our whole life ahead of us. And you and I are… in a very,_ very _good place right now.”_

_As far as intimacy went all they had shared for a while was angry sex but that had been a long time ago and now… It had shifted after Paris, morphed into_ this _and_ this _Effie really loved. Of course they argued all the time, bickered on a daily basis and had explosive fights that always left Mags sighing and shaking her head at them but they also tended to share a bed most nights even when they didn’t have sex, he supported and defended her when her mother was too vocal in her disapproval, he was there for her in ways Seneca had never been…_

_Seneca had always cowered in front of her mother and why not? Elindra Trinket_ was _a force to reckon with. She hadn’t shied away from telling Effie just what she thought of her getting into a partnership with a hockey player. She had called her daughter_ mad _amongst other things, but Effie had held on and she had been right. What she had found in Haymitch, she would never have found with anyone else._

_“I love you.” she whispered._

_It wasn’t the first time she said it, the words were familiar on her lips now. As usual he tensed but it had less to do with her having feelings for him than with ghosts haunting his mind. She didn’t expect an answer, he never gave one and she didn’t really needed him to. He was her partner, she knew him better than anyone else. She knew._

_His lips roamed on her neck, brushing the tender skin he had nibbled on earlier, sometimes kissing sometimes nuzzling. His stubble itched but she could never convince him to get a clean shave – and it was a fight she was happy to lose because she had grown to love his unkempt style._

_“Right now is pretty good.” he finally granted, his hand distractedly playing with the silver charm bracelet around her wrist._

_“Only ‘pretty good’?” she pouted, turning her head to peer at him over her shoulder._

_He chuckled and brushed her hair out of her face, bringing her closer, coiling his hand around her shoulder in such a way that his forearm was resting between her breasts. “You know what you mean to me, Effie. Don’t go fishing.”_

_“It would be nice to hear it sometimes…” she teased. “But I guess I will have to be content_ supposing _– without proof, sadly – that you are madly in love with me and that you wish to spend the rest of your life with me… Preferably with a few more gold medals in our trophy room.”_

_“What proof do you need?” he snorted. “A ring on your finger?”_

_Her heart suddenly started racing in her chest because she had intended it as a joke but his tone was serious underneath the usual layer of sarcasm._

_“Haymitch?” she hesitated._

_He was silent for a long moment and then pressed a kiss against her shoulder. “Let’s talk about this after Japan, alright?”_

_She turned around in his arms, placing a hand on his naked chest. “Yes.”_

_He frowned. She could see the guarded look in his eyes even in the semi-darkness. “Yes you want to talk about it after Japan or yes you want a ring?”_

_“Yes.” she repeated. “Yes to both.” She pushed on his chest until he fell flat on his back and then she straddled him. “But right now I want_ you _again.”_

_He smirked, his fingers running up her thighs to curl around her hipbones._

_“Why, sweetheart… Someone told me it’s rude to deny a lady…”_

°o°

Haymitch leaned in, elbows on his knees, as he watched the disaster unfold on the ice. Next to him, her back rod straight, Effie was shaking her head with every new mistake.

“They are completely out of synch.” she sighed in annoyance.

She had spent half the training session correcting them and yet it didn’t seem to make a difference. And they both knew why. It had nothing to do with what they _could_ do and everything to do with what they _weren’t_. There were two people existing in different spaces on the rink and pair skating was all about co-existing in the same space.

“She never let go.” he commented. “And he never pushes her outside of her comfort zone. There is no middle ground for them to meet.”

“That will have to change if they want a chance at winning _anything_.” she replied. “How you managed to won at Regionals, I will never know.”

“They’ve got charisma.” he shrugged. “And the competition wasn’t great.”

“Charisma isn’t everything and we are going against _Mags, Enobaria_ and _Brutus_.” she snapped. The _we_ passed her lips so easily his eyes shot to her, wondering if she had made her decision then. She didn’t notice, completely focused on the children. She sighed, shook her head and stood up. “No, no, no. This _won’t_ do. Stop, this is absolutely _pointless_.” She tapped his shoulder distractedly. “Come with me.”

She wandered to the ice, took the plastic protections off her blades and skated toward the kids. Either she had forgotten he wasn’t similarly equipped or she didn’t care. He followed anyway if only to avoid her shouting at him – he wasn’t drunk enough to deal with her banshee voice – and cautiously made his way to where they were all standing, trying not to fall and break his neck.

“You are nowhere near ready for a competition as important as Nationals.” Effie said without her usual tact. “And never mind the _World Championships_ if you _miraculously_ manage to get selected.” Katniss bristled and opened her mouth, clearly on the brink of talking back but Effie lifted a warning finger. “No interrupting when I speak, dear. I won’t have you becoming as rude as Haymitch. Four hours a day on the ice isn’t enough, I do apologize if I am blunt but this is the truth. What is your training schedule like? Muscle-building, stamina, stretching…”

Haymitch looked down at his boots, knowing she wouldn’t be pleased with what the kids would have to answer.

“I do one hour in the gym every evening and I jog every morning.” Peeta offered. “I stretch after practice…”

“I stretch in the evenings and I go to the gym every two days…” Katniss shrugged.

Effie looked horrified and turned to him with complete disapprobation. “They do _not_ train together and you allow that? How are they supposed to _become_ anything?”

“Hey, now…” he scowled. “I told them what to do, if they don’t do it it’s not on me…”

She shook her head, watching the kids with a severe look. “Katniss, what is Peeta’s favorite color?” The girl’s face remained absolutely blank and Effie clicked her tongue. “Peeta, what is Katniss’ favorite color?”

“Green. Forest green.” the boy answered quickly after clearing his throat. Katniss tossed him a surprised – almost shocked – look and he winced. “I talked with Prim last time she came with you to practice. She’s chatty.”

“Not really.” Katniss frowned. “Not with strangers.”

“He is not a stranger, he is your _partner_.” Haymitch sighed. He had been trying to drill that into her head for weeks now.

“Okay but I don’t get how me knowing his favorite color is going to help him catch me properly.” the girl sulked.

“A partnership is a marriage in more ways than one.” Effie cut in. “You need to do everything together if you want to be in synch on the ice. You need to learn to know each other, how to _exist_ _together_. You need to be able to hold out your hand and know without looking that…”

She demonstrated by outstretching her arm and abruptly fell silent when she found her hand locked in Haymitch’s tight grip. He stared at their joined hands, feeling stupid. He didn’t know why he had done that.

“Sorry.” he muttered. “Reflex.”

A slow smile stretched her lips. It was a little sad and wistful. She cleared her throat and gently untangled her fingers from his. “My point precisely. The level of trust this art requires is only acquired through intimacy and intimacy cannot be faked. You should move as one. You have to be able to anticipate each other’s move, to _know_ without having to look where your partner is in a room. If the connection you forge is true, it will never really fade.” The kids both look uncomfortable. He didn’t know if it was their little display or her speech. “Are you truly committed to this? Your career? Winning?”

Peeta looked at Katniss and Katniss stubbornly stared at her skates.

“Yes.” the boy answered eventually, coiling his fingers loosely around her wrist. “We are.”

Katniss frowned and gently freed herself from his grasp.

Effie pursed her lips and Haymitch swallowed back a sigh. It wouldn’t be _easy_. Katniss had walls around her as thick as the Great Wall of China.

“Then you will fly back with me to Colorado.” his former partner declared. “I have a private training rink. I can house you both, it won’t be a problem. You will follow my training schedules and you will _commit_ to make this partnership work.”

“You still live in Aspen?” he frowned, a little surprised by that. He would have thought she would have gotten away from her mother’s clutches by now.

“Mother moved to Europe.” she answered as if reading his mind. “And Father is hardly ever home. It was the easiest place to coach my own students. I am alone in there now, we won’t be bothered or distracted.”

His frown deepened. “So you teach now?”

“I hunt for promising children, I coach them for a little while and then I find them a professional trainer.” she clarified. “It is not a lucrative business but I happen to like it.”

It was so not… _her_.

“I can’t fly to Colorado.” Katniss sputtered, putting an end to that line of discussion. “We can do everything _here_.”

“Living together will help you forge a bond.” Effie countered. “It will help you be more in synch.”

“If I remember right _that_ ’s not what helped _us_ be more in synch.” he mocked.

She narrowed her eyes at him, pursed her lips and tilted her head in that fashion that meant _you are in trouble now_. She also glanced at his lips for long enough that he knew she remembered how her giving him that look had usually ended.  

“Look, I can’t go to Colorado for who knows how long…” Katniss insisted. “There are Prim and my mom and… Someone needs to look after them.”

“I’ll do it.” Haymitch offered. “You should go. She’s right. If you want to win, that’s the best plan.”

“What do you mean _you_ will do it?” Peeta frowned, his eyes darting from Haymitch to Effie uncertainly. “You would come with us, wouldn’t you? You’re our trainer…”

“Looks like _she’_ s your trainer now.” he shrugged, forcing a detached smirk on his lips. “You’ll be fine, boy. She’s a pain in the ass but she’s _fucking_ good at this.”

“I’m not going _anywhere_ without you.” Katniss stated stubbornly, tossing Effie a challenging look, as if daring her to contradict her.

Effie wasn’t even looking at her, she was staring at Haymitch. “Why wouldn’t you come? You are their coach… The invitation included you too.”

“Been there, done that.” he sneered. “Aspen never suited me.”

“My mother is not there.” she insisted.

_But you will be_ , he wanted to answer. Instead he waved a dismissive hand. “You don’t need me, sweetheart. You never needed me. You’ll do fine. You’ve got this.”

She turned to completely face him, a puzzled look on her face. “What do you mean I _never_ needed you? _Of course_ , I needed you. We were _a team_.”

“Not good enough for gold.” he reminded her.

“Is that what we are truly talking about?” she challenged, her eyes glaring daggers. “You started with Katniss and Peeta and you _will_ finish. I am never as good alone as I am when working _with you_. I think what happened after Japan proved that.”

“I don’t know what happened after Japan, Effie, I wasn’t there.” he snarled.

“Yes, _exactly_.” she hissed. “You didn’t miss a lot though. Only me missing my shot at the next Olympics because _my partner was gone_.”

“I _told_ you to find a new one.” he growled. “I _told_ you…”

“How was I supposed to find someone to replace you?” she snapped, skating closer until she was very much in his space, shouting in his face. “ _Nobody_ was _good enough_. And don’t think I didn’t try! Don’t think I simply sat there and cried like some sort of…”

Peeta cleared his throat and Haymitch blinked, startled to find out he had completely forgotten about the kids standing there.

“Oh, dear.” Effie breathed out. “I _do_ apologize, this was… This was _completely_ inappropriate.” She shook her head and took her distance from him, forcing a fake cheer in her voice. “I can help you but I can’t do it here, it won’t work. If you want to win, you will come to Aspen.” She shot him a look. “You are coming too. No discussion.”

“You _still_ think you are the boss of me.” he glowered.

“That’s because I am and always will be.” she retorted smugly.

“Like hell.” he scoffed.

“Are we going on not?” Katniss cut in. “’Cause if we’re going I need to arrange something for my family.”

The kids were both watching him, awaiting his final say.

And he was at a loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Suzana performance mentionned by Effie is linked on my tumblr post or can be found on YouTube, it's by Marina Annissina and Gwendal Peyzerat. Go check, it's sassy and awesome!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you nervous?” Peeta asked. Katniss had been fidgeting ever since the plane had taken off. It was a short flight from Richmond to Aspen, only three hours and a half but that didn’t seem to reassure her.

“I’ve never been on a plane before.” she confessed, quickly braiding her long hair and securing it with the black hair tie she usually kept around her wrist. “Do you think we’re doing the right thing? Leaving everything behind and flying to the other end of the country?”

It had been short notice. Effie had flown back after that only training, announcing she would be waiting for them by the end of the week. Two days later, there they were, on a plane to Aspen. Truthfully, Peeta was rather excited but Katniss and Haymitch clearly were _not_. Their mentor had been sober when he had showed up to pick them up to go to the airport – small mercies – but was clearly not dealing well with the lack of liquor. The plane was small and not full. Haymitch was sitting on the other side of the lane, next to an empty seat, looking through the window.

“It’s going to be fine.” he promised, covering the fingers drumming on the armrest with his. Katniss looked up, clearly startled, and he took his hand back, embarrassed for no good reason. “How’s your mom?”

He didn’t know much about her family situation, just what he had gathered from her conversations with Haymitch and the few times Prim had come with her at practice. Her father was dead, that much he knew, and her mother was battling with depression. She had more or less raised her sister from what he understood.

“Same as usual.” she muttered with clear resentment. “Gale will look in on Prim while I’m gone.”

“He’s your best friend, right?” he asked curiously. “Or… Are you two…”

“Friends.” she said firmly and left it at that.

“I’m sure Effie wouldn’t have minded if you had wanted to bring Prim.” he ventured.

“She’s got school.” Katniss answered, having clearly already thought of that. She nibbled on her nail nervously. “She will be fine. She’s a good kid. Maybe she can come visit sometimes.” She suddenly shot him a guilty look. “What about your family? Were they okay with you leaving?”

“I don’t live with them anymore.” he shrugged.

The thought of his family missing him was laughable – his father maybe, and even that wasn’t a given. His brothers had always mocked his choices to go into figure skating, his mother berated him at every opportunity to get a _real_ job like the rest of them and his father didn’t understand him. As soon as he had reached his majority, he had gathered all his savings, the meager money he got from his small sponsors and he had moved out. So far, it had been the best six months of his life and he didn’t regret his decision at all.

“Oh.” she frowned. “Why?”

Katniss had no tact and it made him smile. Anyone else would have tiptoed around the subject.

“We’re not on the best terms.” he said. “I’m not as close with my brothers as you are with your sister.”

“How many do you have?” she asked.

It was the first time she had showed any interest in him. “Two. Both older. My parents have a bakery, they work there. They will take over eventually.”

Katniss nodded as if it made perfect sense. “My mom was a nurse. Prim wants to be a doctor.”

She didn’t offer any information about her father and he didn’t pry. “Orange.”

“What?” she frowned.

“My favorite color. It’s orange.” he offered with a teasing smile. “You know, in case she tests you again as soon as we land or something.”

“Orange.” she repeated with a small wrinkle of her nose.

“Orange like a sunset.” he clarified. “You know?”

A snort was clearly audible from the other side of the small lane but when they looked at him, Haymitch was still lost in his contemplation of the clouds. They exchanged a look and shrugged. Their trainer was strange, who knew what he was even thinking about.

The plane rocked a little and she gripped his hand in a tight grip before making an apologetic face. “I think I’m going to try to sleep a little.”

“Okay.” he smiled, taking his old battered ipod from his pocket. He hesitated and offered her one earplug. She hesitated too before taking it with a small grateful smile. She curled up on her seat and he picked up a pen and notepad. He doodled for a while, not really listening to the music, too aware that her head was threatening to fall on his shoulder.

They were only half an hour from landing when she woke up with a start, blinking and confused. She rubbed her eyes and furrowed her brow when she spotted the notepad covered with sketches.

“You’re very good at this.” she offered, reaching out for it. He stopped her by slamming his hand on the pad.

“I… Sorry.” he winced. “It’s just…”

“No, it’s alright.” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have…” She stopped talking and stretched her arms over her head before excusing herself to go to the toilets.

He watched her go, berating himself over his stupidity. He wasn’t self-conscious about his drawings. He simply didn’t want her to see just how many times he had sketched her. His eyes fell on Haymitch whose forehead was now resting against the cold pane. His eyes were still open and unseeing. Peeta pursed his lips in a determined pout and eased himself out of his seat and over the lane. He dropped on the free seat, clearly startling his trainer. Haymitch blinked, looked around, spotted him and rolled his eyes.  “What do you want, boy?”

“Just wanted to check you were alright.” Peeta shrugged.

“So you’re giving the pep talks, now?” Haymitch sneered. “Or do you want us to braid each other’s hair and talk about girls?”

He didn’t let the man’s cutting attitude get to him. “I never said anything about any _girl_ but if you want to talk about Effie…”

“I don’t want to talk about _anything_.” his trainer growled. His eyes darted from him to the direction Katniss had disappeared in. “Be careful where you’re going with this, Peeta. She’s a tough girl to get involved with.”

“I thought that was the whole point of going to Colorado.” he frowned. “Getting to know each other and…”

“You’re sweet on the girl.” Haymitch interrupted him. “And she’s blind as a bat. Just be careful that’s all I’m saying.”

He opened his mouth to deny and then closed it again. Instead of justifying or explaining his own feelings, he found himself studying his trainer’s face. “Is that what happened between you and Effie?”

“Listen to me and listen _carefully_.” the man hissed, the threat clearly perceptible in his voice. “What happened between me and Effie is between _me and Effie_. It stays there. Don’t go poking.”

“I wasn’t…” he denied. “Look, I just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.”

“I’m fine.” Haymitch snapped, looking away and through the window again. “Just can’t believe I’m going back to _fucking_ Aspen.”

“What’s so terrible about Aspen?” he joked. “I saw pictures. It looks pretty.”

“Pretty things are always the most deadly.” he mumbled.

It was the last he got out of him until landing.

There was a driver waiting for them and, on retrospect, that might have clued them in on the fact that Effie wasn’t living in your typical mountain cabin. The gate to the estate was huge and glinted silver in the pale autumnal sun. It was also branded with a huge _T_.

Haymitch let out a sigh and took a sip of the flask he had taken out of his suitcase at the airport and had made his top priority to fill. He seemed to settle in for a long ride and Peeta was confused because they had already been driving for one hour and a half and they had just passed the gates…

He and Katniss exchanged impatient glances. They were eager to stretch their legs after the flight and the car trip.

It took fifteen minutes of wilderness to reach the house.

It was a mansion.

A very huge, very imposing mansion.

Effie stepped out on the porch as soon as the car came up the lane and welcomed them with a beaming smile. She was wearing a bright apple green dress and towering high heeled boots and both he and Katniss were treated to a hug – which Katniss seemed to _hate_ – she hesitated in front of Haymitch and they shuffled awkwardly for a moment until her face settled into something akin to determination and she pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Let me give you a tour!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, thanks, I’ll pass.” Haymitch scoffed. “What room did you put me in?”

Effie’s smile faltered for a second but then it was back, bright as ever. “Your old one.”

“Awesome.” he drawled out.

“Don’t be rude.” she hissed. “If you want another one all you have to do is ask. We are not short of space here.”

“It’s fine.” he dismissed. “ It will be unbearable no matter which room I’m in. You give the kids a tour, sweetheart. I’m going to take a nap.”

He grabbed his suitcase and disappeared inside the house without a glance back. Effie watched him go with pursed lips and then turned to them, clasping her hands in front of her cheerfully. “A tour!”

“Never mind a tour.” Peeta whispered to Katniss as they passed the third living-room. “I will need _a map_.”

He was rewarded with an amused look and a twitch of her lips.

There was _everything_ in that house from Jacuzzis, a big room full of bodybuilding machines, an office full to the brink with trophy cases, to pool tables, but the most interesting part was the tall building located at the back of the estate, a good ten minutes walk away from the house.

When she had said she had a private ice rink, Peeta had supposed she meant she was renting one in town not that she had one _in her garden_. The place wasn’t new, that much was clear, and the rink wasn’t as big as some he had seen but there was enough space to train. The rink was framed by mahogany floorboards with two comfortable looking armchairs on one side and a stereo system on the other.

He had never seen such luxury before and, given the look on her face, the same probably went from Katniss.

“Please.” Effie said with a sincere smile as she led them back to the main house. “ _Do_ make yourself at home.”

They exchanged a look, not sure how to tell her their homes would have fitted in the smallest of her sitting-rooms.

°O°

_Haymitch hated this place._

_He slumped further in the lounge chair and immediately winced. The slightest move was painful, he had strapped bags of ice around his thighs but it was failing to relieve his aching muscles and the ice coupled with the sharp bite of the wind was making him rethink his choices. Maybe he should have found another place than the balcony to drag his sorry ass to but as huge as the mansion was, nowhere inside was safe from Elindra Trinket’s voice. He wanted to watch the stars though, the view on the woods was good, and the booze he had snatched from the liquor cabinet helped some._

_The first two weeks in Aspen hadn’t been_ too _bad, it was the last one that had been awful. The training was intense, sure, but even though it was different from what he was used to he wasn’t afraid of the work. It felt good, even if he still wasn’t used to the figure skates and spent most of his time falling on his ass or on his stomach. Stretching was the worst, he wasn’t flexible and that was torture, he was still snickering during each ballet lesson because of the ridicule of it all, but most days he was too exhausted to think and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow just like Effie had promised and_ that _was good._

 _Effie was annoying. Very, very annoying. Hot, certainly, but annoying. He sort of hated her. He liked riling her up, it was way too easy to anger her. On the other end, she seemed to have a gift to make_ him _angry. Mags was at the end of her rope with them._

 _But the first two weeks hadn’t been_ that _bad. In between two arguments and two torture sessions, he had even surprised himself by having fun sometimes. And then Elindra had come back from her business trip…_

 _She had taken one look at him, had wrinkled her nose and had asked in a very clipped voice if Effie and Mags had completely lost their minds. Off to a good start. Haymitch didn’t like being put down by snobbish bitches with a stick in their ass – at least, Effie didn’t rub her money in his face, she was snobbish, yeah, but not in a ‘I’m rich so I’m better than you’ way – first gibe she had tossed his way, he had barked back and it had escalated quickly. It wasn’t just the way she treated_ him, _it was the way she behaved with her daughter. He wasn’t sure he liked Effie but he was very sure he didn’t like the way Elindra demeaned her at every given opportunity._

 _A lady didn’t raise her voice… It was all in short haughty comments and snide remarks like how Effie shouldn’t eat this or that, how it was_ such a shame _Effie couldn’t jump as high as_ she _had done in her prime, how one should just know how to quit while they were ahead…_

_They were arguing about that again right now – if that could be called arguing because there was no shouts or screams, which didn’t change anything because their voices were so high-pitched they were clearly audible from rooms away anyway. Mags had shaken her head and had retreated to her bedroom. He had heard classical music filter through the door as he had passed by._

_The mansion was huge and soulless, he hated it. Eight bedrooms, he didn’t know how many bathrooms, too many sitting rooms, a huge dining room, a room with cases full of trophies – Elindra’s and Effie’s both… It was no wonder the girl was such a spoiled brat._

_The glass door suddenly slid open and then shut and Effie hurried to the balcony, gripping the wooden banister in her hands, bowing over and taking several deep breaths._

_“You should try screaming sometimes, sweetheart.”_

_She startled and spun around, only relaxing when she spotted him on the lounge chair. “I apologize, I didn’t know you were out there, I didn’t want to disturb you.”_

_He brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips, eyeing her. She looked rattled even though she was very good at keeping a lid on her emotions. He wanted to take her on at poker one day, he was sure she would be outstanding at it. “You’re disturbing my legs going numb so I guess it’s alright.”_

_“You promised Mags you wouldn’t drink again.” she frowned with open disapproval. “You promised_ me _you were committed to this. You…”_

_“Don’t get your knickers into a twist.” He rolled his eyes. “I said I wouldn’t show up drunk on the rink. We’re not on the rink.” He held out the bottle to her. “You should have a drink.”_

_She shook her head and slowly made her way to the lounge chair next to his, sitting down with her usual grace and poise. “I wouldn’t mind sharing an ice pack though.”_

_The admission was tentative but he didn’t see where was the wrong in saying she was hurting. She had been doing this way longer than him, true, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed bad days. “Liquor works better than that.” he snorted, unstrapping one of his pack to toss it at her._

_She caught it – barely – and pursed her lips at what was probably bad manners on his part._

_“Is that why you are drinking alone?” she asked. “To numb the pain? You do know we have ibuprofen somewhere, don’t you?”_

_“’Got to sleep at some point tonight and I’m not tired enough.” he shrugged, watching as she inched up her blue dress up a little and carefully applied the pack to her knee. She swallowed back the hiss but it was obvious she was in pain. “It hurts again?”_

_“I am fine.” she snapped._

_“I’m not your mother, sweetheart, I’m not looking for an edge.” he warned. “Don’t bite my head off.”_

_Anger passed on her face but the next second it was replaced with exhaustion. “My apologies. It was a long day.”_

_“Yeah, I know. I was there, remember?” he snorted. “Those ten last laps were too much. Mags’s a brute.”_

_She giggled. “She’s demanding.”_

_“My last coach was demanding.” he insisted. “She’s a tyrant.”_

_He didn’t try to suppress the fondness from his voice. It hadn’t taken him long for him to fall under the old woman’s charm. She was warm and motherly despite her implacable work ethics._

_She flashed him a small smile, not fooled by his antics. Their affection for Mags was probably the only thing they had in common so far. She moved the ice pack to the side of her knee and bit on her bottom lip, switching hands so she could shake her fingers numbed by the ice. He wordlessly untied his other ice pack and sat up straighter, ignoring the pull in his muscles, to flatten the pack on the other side of her knee. She hissed but didn’t actually protested._

_“Not going to say it’s improper or some shit?” he teased. He had his hand between her knees, after all – true enough, he put his hands all over her when they practiced lifting but it was difficult to get turned on when an old woman was shouting at you that you were doing it wrong and when someone’s safety was in the balance. Her skin was starting to redden because of the cold._

_“Language.” she rebuked, completely ignoring the question. She lifted the pack for a second, time enough for her skin to regain sensation, he figured, and then applied it again, changing hand. He did too because his fingers were going numb. “Do you need it to sleep? The liquor.”_

_He felt her eyes on his face but he kept his on her knee. There was a touch of concern in her voice that irritated him. “I’m not quite an alcoholic yet, Princess. Don’t worry, I can still do my job.”_

_“Yet.” she repeated flatly. “Do you plan to be?”_

_He licked his lips, itching to grab the bottle and take a sip just to provoke her._

_“What’s the deal with that Crane guy?” he retorted._

_That name was being tossed around all the time. He knew he was her former partner – not only was it impossible to ignore in that house but he had watched a few tapes of them performing together – but he would have bet there was more to the story than that. If she mentioned him at all during training, Mags always took a wary voice, as for Elindra… Elindra was never short of good things to say about Seneca and if Haymitch had guessed right it had a lot to do with the size of his bank account._

_“I don’t know what you mean.” she answered._

_“Sure, you don’t.” he chuckled. “Thought we were supposed to be best friends? Best friends share.”_

_That was Mags’ latest obsession: for them to_ connect _. She was desperate to get them to communicate in a way that wasn’t shouting matches but, so far, it wasn’t working. They spent their entire days together already – except dinners, Haymitch had eaten in the dining-room with Elindra once and had sworn he would stick to the kitchen from now on, even if that meant the cook would watch him throughout his dinner, at least Sae wasn’t a pain in the ass – and it didn’t make the slightest difference. After three weeks, they were still strangers._

_“Why do you drink?” she asked._

_It was almost a challenge. She was so sure he wouldn’t answer… He switched hand again on the ice pack. It was almost all melted now, water trickled down her leg._

_“Because it helps me to stop thinking.” he shrugged. “You should try sometimes.”_

_“I don’t drink.” she retorted. “I have a strict diet.”_

_A diet her mother had set up from her childhood from what he had seen. She calculated calories every time she put something in her mouth and threw him disapproving looks when he didn’t follow Mags’ instructions about what to eat or not to eat._

_“You must drink sometimes.” he frowned._

_“A flute of champagne on special occasions.” she confessed as if it was her biggest sin._

_That was a very sad thing for a twenty year old girl and it made him smirk. “I’m getting you shit-face wasted before we’re done with this partnership.”_

_“Certainly not.” she huffed._

_“I’ll loosen you up yet, Princess.” he taunted. “You’ll see.”_

_She shook her head at him, placing the now melted pack of ice at her feet. He did the same with his but not without letting his fingers trail on the side of her leg. There was a scar there. She had had surgery on that knee but she wasn’t willing to discuss it. She didn’t want to discuss_ anything _. She was all faked smiles and faked cheer all the time, it was exhausting to watch._

_“Why do you want to stop thinking?” she asked softly. “Is it because of…” She stopped and winced a little. “Is it because of what happened during your last game?”_

_His reaction was instinctive and immediate. He reached for the bottle and gulped down a long mouthful before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t talk about things you know_ shit _about.”_

 _Most people would have stepped back at that growl but she didn’t even flinch. She sat there and watched him._ Waiting _._

_He would have liked it better if she had called him out about his manners again._

_“What’s the deal with Crane?” he asked one more time._

_She sighed and stretched her legs in front of her. “We were partners. In more ways than one.”_

_“Ah.” he snorted. “Fuck buddies.”_

_She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know who you think I am but I will have you know I am not that sort of woman.”_

_“Of course not.” he mumbled. “You’re the romance kind.”_

_“Is there something wrong with that?” she scowled._

_“Nothing if he knew how to make you scream.” he taunted, lying back on the lounge chair again. He didn’t want to face her. It might be the first time they were_ really _talking and he found he didn’t quite know how to deal with that._

 _“Haymitch,_ that _is very improper.” she commented._

_“’M not hearing a hearty denial that he was shit in bed…” he pointed out._

_“How is it even relevant to the conversation?” she snapped. “I have no wish to talk about that or to even_ think _about it. He betrayed me. He let me down.”_

_The pain in her voice was genuine and when he turned his head, he was stunned to find her eyes shiny with tears. She blinked them away quickly and collected herself but, right then, in the night, under the stars, she looked more human than he had ever seen her._

_“Thought he left because of the knee…” he ventured. “That’s only the job. He broke up with you too?”_

_“_ I _broke up with him, thank you very much.” she hissed. “He deserted me when I most needed him. He knows what the Olympics mean to me. He knows…” She fell silent. “Mother wants me to marry him. As you must already have gathered, she thinks I am being unreasonable and this is folly, that I should simply retire before I make a fool of myself and her name in front of the whole nation… She thinks I should forget dreams I had no chance to reach to begin with and settle for a good marriage.”_

_She kept her head turned away from him._

_He let out a long whistle. “Well, your mother’s a first class bitch.”_

_“Haymitch!” she gasped. “She is your hostess! Where were you raised? In a barn? You can’t insult your hostess!”_

_Funny that it was the only reason why he shouldn’t call her mother a bitch._

_“You know what?” he drawled out. “I think going for a drunk hockey player who got kicked out for killing someone is crazy. I think you’re crazy. And ridiculous. But I think you’ve got guts too.”_

_She stared at him for a long moment and then reclined in her own lounge chair._

_“I still think you are a ruffian who has absolutely no manners and should really learn to mind his language.” She declared after a while. “But… You have qualities.”_

_“That’s too good of you, sweetheart.” He chuckled._

_They watched the night sky in silence for a few minutes and then she placed a hand on her stomach with a wince. “Do your abs hurt?”_

_After that afternoon session? He didn’t even know how he would manage to get out of there and back inside. At the moment, spending the night on the lounge chair sounded good._

_“Like a train ran on me.” he snorted._

_“Oh, thank god, I thought I was the only one…” she laughed._

_“Shouldn’t have tried to race me.” He pointed out._

_“You shouldn’t have dared me too.” she replied._

_They exchanged a smile and Haymitch thought that,_ maybe _, she wasn’t that bad._

°o°

“You should see the house, Prim. It’s _huge_. I don’t even know how to get the shower to work… There are so many buttons…”

Effie smiled at Katniss’ voice filtering through the closed door of the sitting room and continued up the hallway, unwilling to disturb the girl during her phone call. It had been so long since she had overnight guests in the house, it felt a little odd. She had grown used to the mansion being cold and empty.

She wandered aimlessly for a while, trying to think about something to do. She had checked her training schedules ten times already, she had cleared her planning for the next three months, she had called her assistants and handed over the training of her students… The only thing left to do was go to bed and get ready for the weeks that would come, training wouldn’t be hard only on the children she knew, but her nerves were frayed and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

Did she hear a noise while she passed by the trophy room or was it this sixth sense of hers that seemed to always be aware of where Haymitch was? She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded in front of her chest, and watched him.

He was studying one of the glass cases, the one with their Olympic medal. He was barefoot, wearing red checked flannel sweatpants and a long-sleeve grey shirt as if he was ready to go to bed. The sight brought her back years earlier.

The room had been her father’s office before her mother had colonized it with her trophies but the desk and tall shelves full of books that ran up to the ceiling had stayed. He was propped against the desk, the perfect picture of nonchalance.

“Like what you see?” he challenged after a few minutes.

He hadn’t turned his head but, then again, she probably wasn’t the only one able to tell when the other was close.

“You missed dinner.” she remarked.

Dinner had been a little awkward even with her cheerful chatting and repeated assurances that the children should consider her house their home. Katniss had been sullen and had only brightened up when Peeta had suggested she called Prim after dessert.

“Not hungry.” he shrugged. “You fired the butler.”

It took her a few seconds to catch up and remember than when he had been there last the house had been full of staff: maids, a butler, almost too many domestics. Now she only had a cleaning crew coming once a week and a gardener who came in a couple of times every month… Her mother loved standing but Effie loved her privacy more. If she needed a driver, she hired one for the day. When she threw a party she used catering and hired help.

“Sae is still here.” she hummed. The cook had been her only exception to the no staff on site rule and then again, Sae had been there for so long that she was almost family – certainly not to _Elindra_ but Effie had fond memories of the old woman who refused to retire.

“I know, I went to the kitchen.” he snorted. “She says you still eat like a bird. Apparently, it’s good I’m here because I will force you to feed yourself properly.”

“Is that so?” she grinned. Sae had always found her diet requirements ridiculous and Effie had suspected for a long time that the cook loved Haymitch because he would eat whatever she put in front of him – to him, food was food and wasting was a crime. “We are not in the nineties anymore. It was ridiculous to keep the same lifestyle when it’s just me in the house.”

“It was ridiculous even in the nineties, sweetheart.” he scoffed, bringing his glass to his lips. He had helped himself to her father’s whiskey. “You live alone, then? No boyfriend?”

The question was casual, almost too painfully detached. She moved from the doorframe closer to him to peer at the silver medal on its red velvet cushion. She had spent many a night staring at it. It was lost amongst most of the trophies and medals they had won together. There were pictures and magazine articles too. Call her a masochist but she sometimes enjoyed a trip down memory lane. There were things too important to move on or forget.

“No one who ever convinced me to settle with them.” she answered finally. “What did you do with your medal?”

He shrugged. “Somewhere in the attic with the skates.”

“That _is_ a shame.” she commented, moving along to the other side of the room to look at her mother’s Olympic gold medal. She had spent years staring at it while she grew up.

“I didn’t keep up with skating competitions after Japan but I watched Salt Lake.” he said. “I thought you would be there to snatch the gold.”

Salt Lake Games in 2002 would have been her last chance at an Olympic medal.

“I had been out for two years by that point.” she replied. “I lost World Championships in 1999 and again in 2000. There was no point anymore. I tried a few partners but nothing fitted. I was wasting Mags’ time. I let her go and I retired. It was the sensible thing to do.”

She kept her back turned to him, knowing he would hear the pain and regrets in her voice. There was resentment too. If he had stayed… She had lost her will to win after Japan.

“I thought you would go back to Crane.” he admitted. “Kept expecting to hear about you two getting married or something…”

“You were an idiot then.” she commented. “That ship had sailed even before I met you.”

“He could have taken you to the Olympics.” he observed. She heard the tell-tale clinking of ice against glass and she supposed he was taking a sip.

“No… We were ordinary together. It was nothing like us.” she sighed. “Seneca is dead. He hanged himself a few years ago – or he was hanged, I don’t think the investigation ever amounted to anything. He had gotten involved in dubious activities. He owed people money.”

“I… _Shit_ , sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t know.” he winced.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach, listening to the sound of the glass being placed down on the desk – without a coaster, she was certain. She closed her eyes when she felt him approaching her. He remained behind her, his hands uncertainly hovering over her shoulders and she wished he would make a decision because she would either melt against his chest or flee, she wasn’t sure.

“Effie…” he breathed out. Too close. She felt his breath on her nape and instinctively tilted her head, baring her throat to him. His hands fell on her waist, not at all hesitant now, and his lips brushed against her neck.

The almost contact was like an electric shock that went from the tip of her hair to her toes. She almost whined in pain or in bliss, she wasn’t sure. Her eyes flew open and she stepped away, clearing her throat. She went to stand by the window, feeling safer with half the room between them.

“Did you hear about Mags?” she asked, taking pain to keep her voice casual, pretending nothing had happened.

“The stroke, yeah.” His voice was gruff and raw. She didn’t need to look to know his grey eyes were dark with lust.

She didn’t know how she felt about that.

Her own body felt treacherous, too impatient to fall back on old patterns. Being with him in this house didn’t help. They had had sex in this very room once, on that very desk. And as much as she tried to chase the memories away, they were intrusive.

“She’s doing okay now though, right?” he said after a moment of silence. “She’s coaching again. Can’t be that bad.”

“She’s diminished.” she replied. “But she recovered. Finnick is a darling, he takes great care of her.”

“Odair.” he clarified. “Our competition.”

“Our competition happens to be my friend.” she countered.

“Friend.” he repeated dubiously and she rolled her eyes, identifying the edge in his voice for what it was. 

“Please, Haymitch, he is half my age.” she huffed, turning to face him.

“You don’t look your age.” he scowled. “Wouldn’t blame him for trying.”

They stared at each other for a while, the tension almost too much to bear.

“Are you jealous?” she asked at last.

“I’m not _jealous_.” he spat. “I’m just saying.”

“Saying _what_ exactly?” she prompted.

“Saying I…” he snapped only to abruptly close his mouth. He turned his head and reached for his mostly empty glass. “Look, those kids… They’ve got a shot.”

“I know.” she agreed. “I also know we can do this. We are still a team despite everything.”

“Are we?” he snorted. “I thought _that_ ship had sailed too.”

She wasn’t certain he was talking about their professional relationship but she chose to ignore that.

“You will always be my team.” she whispered before making a hasty exit, leaving him to look at the mementoes of their time together with a wistful look on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

He had forgotten how peaceful the rink was when no one was there.

It had always been a good hiding place when Elindra was becoming too unbearable. Cold, yes, but the dragon had never ventured there anymore.

Effie had sent the kids jogging on the trail through the woods and she had yet to show up in there so he was sitting on one of the armchairs and flipping through figure skating magazines, trying to find a figure that would help making the kids stand out.

When the door opened and closed he didn’t look up, he knew it was her, he was long attuned to the sound of her footsteps. When she placed something at his feet though – something that had belonged to _him_ once upon a time – his eyes shot up, not understanding where she was going with this.

“I told you…” he frowned.

“You told me it didn’t feel right without me.” she interrupted. “Well, I am right here so you don’t have any excuse. You can’t coach from there, I need you on the ice to help me demonstrate.”

“Demonstrate.” he repeated with heavy irony, watching her sitting on the other chair to kick her shoes and put on her skates. “Demonstrate what? How to end up on your ass or how to get my partner’s skull open? Haven’t skated in fifteen years, I’m not taking it up again now.” He fished his flask from his pocket with a sneer. “I’m a drunkard, sweetheart. Drunkards don’t skate.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” she chided him, snatching the flask from his hand. “No alcohol on the rink.”

“I’m _not_ on the rink.” he snarled, reaching out to steal it back but she wedged it in the waistband of her training pants at the small of her back.

“You will be.” she retorted.

He lifted his eyebrows, ignoring that for now. “You think I’m not going to come and get it?”

He stood up but she was swifter. Before he could even blink, she had gotten rid of her blade protections and she was on the ice, skidding to a stop, hands on her hips.

“Please, _do_ come and get it, Haymitch.” she challenged. “Just put the skates on first, I would hate having to call for an ambulance before training even starts.”

“You’re a _bitch_.” he muttered.

“Language.” she rebuked.

“Effie, I’m a drunkard. You don’t want a drunkard on skates.” he snapped.

“Stop calling yourself by that vile name.” she repeated.

“Why? ‘Cause it offends you?” he sneered. “Doesn’t change the truth, does it?”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him, tilting her head in displeasure. “The children have made a commitment by coming here. I made a commitment by clearing my schedule. I need you to be committed to this.”

“I _fucking_ came here too, didn’t I?” he snarled.

“I want you to cut down on the liquor.” she declared. “I want you sober.”

“Yeah, told you once, didn’t I? You don’t always get what you want, Princess. I’m sure it’s shocking to a spoiled brat like yourself.” he spat. “Give me my booze back.”

“Maybe if you slow down your consumption enough you will be able to stop. It won’t happen overnight but you _can_ get a hold on this, Haymitch.” she pleaded. “I will help.”

“Like you helped before?” he taunted.

He had expected her to shout at him or maybe to tell him to stop bringing everything back to the past – which was _hard_ to do when everything around them was a reminder; how many hours had they spent kissing next to this very rink while Mags was elsewhere finalizing things with sponsors?

“Is that what it would take to ensure you stay sober?” she retorted. “Our old arrangement?”

He was _very_ tempted to tell her yes only to rile her up. They glared at each other for a moment and then he surrendered, knowing she would have her way anyway. The closest small town was half an hour drive away. If she decided to get rid of all the liquor in the house it would be _bad_ – and she would, he knew she would. At least, this way, he had a small measure of control.

“I’ll stay sober enough to help.” he granted. “But I’m not skating.”

“I _need_ you here with me.” she sighed.

“No, you don’t.” he scoffed.

“Very well.” she amended. “I _want_ you here with me.” She skated closer to the edge where he was standing. “Please.”

She could do a damned well good _kicked puppy look_ when she wanted to. She batted her eyelashes with a sad pout and he rolled his eyes.

“You’re cheating and you brought this on yourself.” he warned, sitting back down to unlace his boots.

The simple act of putting his socked clad feet in the skates was enough to make his throat close up. His hands were shaking so badly – in excitement or fear, he couldn’t say – he couldn’t tie up the shoelaces and he almost gave up on the whole thing. His legs felt like jelly when he took his first step on the ice and he was too aware of her hovering nearby, ready to catch him if he fell. That was supposed to be _his_ job but then again she had always been the one handling damage control.

“See.” she triumphed with a smug smile when he grew bolder and took a lap around the rink. “It’s like riding a bike. You never forget.”

He slowed down to approach her from behind, placing a hand on her waist, automatically outstretching his other hand for hers and she sprung in movement just as instinctively, her fingers closing on his. He slowed down even more, letting go of her waist, leaving her time to anticipate his move but she was already ahead of him, already twirling away, her right leg outstretched ready for a jump she didn’t take. There was a bright smile on her lips as she came to a stop.

“Still perfect.” she commented.

“Sure.” he smirked, waving his flask in the air.

She pursed her lips to fight an amused smile and he concluded she had known all along what he was planning and his pickpocket abilities weren’t as good as he thought them to be. He tossed the flask on the coat he had discarded earlier and turned back to her.

It was uncanny how quickly reflexes had come back. It was odd how _not odd_ being back on the ice was. He glided mindlessly for a few seconds, waiting for a disaster to happen: a fall, a broken bone… Effie kept up easily, mimicking his moves and sharp turns. He took speed, leaving her behind and went for a double loop jump. The moves were muscle memories. Except he didn’t have much left in terms of muscles and he crashed spectacularly, gliding on his side on the ice.

“Are you alright?” Effie gasped, skidding to her knees next to him.

On his back, his hip bruised, he laughed like he hadn’t laughed in years. The spooked way she was staring at him only added to hilarity.

“Well, I’m not twenty anymore.” he snorted.

“We will train with the children.” she decided. “You need to build back muscle strength.”

“Why?” he smirked. “You’re planning on going back into competing? Do they make competitions for grandparents?”

“We are not _that_ old.” she bristled, getting back on her feet and outstretching her hand.

“Olympics are a bit behind us, sweetheart.” he mocked gently, letting her pull him up. He winced and rubbed his hip. “I’m too old for this _shit_.”

“You are _not_ too old to mind your language.” she chided him. “Are you hurt?”

She placed her hand on his hip, pocking and probing in search of injuries. He let her, looking down at her, feeling his heart starting to race stupidly at her proximity. Eventually, she looked up at him and they stared at each other, locked in each other’s gaze like they had tended to do in the past. He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

“Just my ego.” he snorted. “I’ll live.”

They were too close and he wanted to kiss her. The previous night had been bad enough. Being so close to her… Her tilting her head, offering her throat to him as if in a never lost habit… It had been enough to make him hard.

He let his fingers trail down her cheek, down her neck, coiling his hand loosely around her nape. She didn’t oppose any resistance. They had started a lot of routines like that, chest pressed closed together, his hand around her neck ready to make her twirl only to catch her and lift her over his head…

“I missed you.”

The confession passed his lips unwarranted.

“It killed me when you left.” she whispered.

“I know.” he admitted.

“Then why did you do it?” There was enough desperation in her question that he knew it had been plaguing her for fifteen years.

His smile was sad. “’Cause I came to see Bogart’s point.” He squeezed her neck once and let go, gliding away from her, ignoring the tinge of pain in his hip.

He was feeling the need for a drink but he swallowed it back, trying for another jump instead. A simpler one. The landing was rocky but he didn’t fall this time. The feeling was still as incredible as he remembered it. It was what freedom tasted like. Or maybe that was her kisses. He had never quite been able to tell the difference.

She had saved him when he was twenty-three and he had a feeling she would give it her best shot again.

“I had a thought.” she said, her tone firmer, _professional_.

“You don’t say!” he mocked, tracing lazy eight loops around her. “Did it hurt?”

She pursed her lips. “If I had known you were still unable to keep still, I wouldn’t have equipped you with skates.”

He rolled his eyes but stopped not too far from her. “Shoot, Princess. What’s that big thought?”

She tossed him a warning look. Enough with the teasing, he figured. That made him smirk. It was too easy and he enjoyed it too much.

“We should expand on your _Girl On Fire_ routine.” she declared. “I have a stylist friend, I sent him the video and we spoke last night… He has a lot of ideas and he is very good at what he does. He can make them outstanding outfits. That will play in the _wow_ factor.”

“The _wow_ factor isn’t everything.” he pointed out. “It’s better if the _wow_ factor is coupled with a risk factor.”

That was what the judges rewarded the most.

“I agree.” she offered. “Besides, we are the outsiders here. Almost nobody knows Katniss and Peeta’s names…”

“Don’t tell me.” he groaned. “That means sponsors chasing.”

“I know you hate that but yes. Eventually.” she nodded.

“I’d rather go to Nationals without that.” he pointed out. “Get the attention there. Create an interest.”

“Yes, that was my idea too.” she agreed. “I can cover expenses until then.”

“We can split everything.” he frowned.

She dismissed that with a wave of her hand, never quite having grasped that monetary questions could be important to other people. “I don’t think Katniss and Peeta’s problem is the technique. Their technique is good.”

“They don’t work together.” he added. “They don’t know how.”

“Which means team building.” she said. “And we are starting today.”

“Great.” he deadpanned. “They’re going to love that just as much as we did, I bet.”

“Mags’ method proved itself.” she reminded him.

“Yeah, that’s one way to look at things.” he snorted. “Make sure they’ve got condoms available. I don’t want to deal with a pregnant Katniss.”

“You _do_ realize not all figure skating partners sleep together.” she pointed out. “ _You_ were _obsessed_.”

He smirked, shooting her a knowing look that made her blush.

It was lucky for her the kids chose that moment to stumble in, looking red in the face and sweaty. Both of them froze once they spotted him on the rink.

“You’re skating.” Katniss observed, always so astute.

“Yeah.” he chuckled. “I _did_ get a medal or two for that.”

“No.” Peeta added, shaking his head. “You’re _skating_. You _never_ put on skates.”

“Effie convinced me. Talk to her.” he shrugged, turning his back on them and skating away, feeling uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

“I have my ways.” his former partner offered, clapping her hands once. “Now… Training.”

°O°

Peeta stumbled on the balcony, arms full, every last of his limbs screaming in agony. He froze when he spotted Katniss already lying on one of the lounge chairs, ice packs strapped to her legs, and winced.

“Sorry.” he said, feeling awkward. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“It’s alright.” she answered, not looking at him in the eyes.

Deciding bearing the awkwardness was a better option than crawling back inside to find another place to agonize in peace, he dropped on the lounge chair next to hers and strapped his own ice packs in place, grabbing his notepad and his pencil only to drop them again. His arms hurt too much for him to draw. He couldn’t even muster the strength to reach for his ipod.

“I think they’re out to kill us.” she ventured.

“Team killer coaches.” he joked.

A week had passed since that first morning they had found Haymitch casually skating like he hadn’t seemed to be allergic to the rink since they had met him, and both he and Effie appeared committed to murdering them. Training was much harder than what they used to do in Richmond. They trained _all day_. Breakfast, jogging, stretching, team building, lunch, one hour of muscle building or lifting practice alternating every two days and then rehearsals until six pm at which point they were finally allowed to crawl to their showers.

Team building was what they dreaded the most though. The results weren’t exactly conclusive from Peeta’s point of view. The exercises were different every day. Sometimes Katniss had to close her eyes and let herself fall backward and Peeta had to catch her or the reverse, sometimes it was about contact. That morning, Effie had forced them to hug for the longest time _to get the feel of each other’s body_ or whatever way she had put it. It had been the most awkward yet. He had liked it better when they had forced them to play twenty questions.

“So…” he continued, preferring to stop thinking about that. “Haymitch is sober.”

“I noticed.” Katniss answered, turning her head in his direction. “And _training_.”

Peeta nodded thoughtfully.

Finding Haymitch on skates had been a huge surprise but the answer to that had come soon enough. When Effie corrected them, she liked to demonstrate herself and that meant Haymitch had to participate. It had only taken Haymitch two days to get into that trend and now they were both automatically reaching for each other every time Katniss and Peeta did something wrong that needed to be adjusted. He and Effie sometimes joined them for jogs in the morning or in the gym. They bickered _all the time_ but they seemed to be on one mind when it came down to wiping them into shape.

For people who were so obvious opposites, they were in perfect synch. Haymitch passed her the salt at dinner before she asked, she only had to give him _one_ look for him to stop his corny jokes, they finished each other’s sentences like they had been married all their lives…

They touched a lot. Casual touches. Haymitch often placed a hand at the small of her back to guide her in and out of rooms, she tended to link their arms when they walked together, their hands kept brushing every time they handed each other something… And they were _constantly_ in each other’s space. Neither of them seemed to notice.

“He looks happier.” he ventured.

“Maybe Colorado is better for him than Virginia.” she shrugged.

It had less to do with the state than with the company, he figured, but Katniss was oblivious to what was happening between Haymitch and Effie. She had muttered to him more than once during training that if all they were going to do was argue, they could as well not talk to each other. Peeta thought they _enjoyed_ the arguing.

“Did you reach Prim?” he asked, switching subject.

“Yes.” Katniss smiled, immediately brightening up. “She got As in her last three tests so she’s happy.” Being so far from her sister was obviously hard on her, she called home every day. He envied that a little. “Gale is checking in regularly.”

“It’s nice of him.” he replied, maybe a little short. He always got somehow irritated when her best friend was mentioned.

“Yes.” she nodded, missing his annoyance. “I think we’re doing better. They’re asking us to do more difficult figures.”

“They’re looking for a suitable risk factor.” he agreed.

“We need to do something no one will expect.” she sighed. “We need to qualify for the World Championships.”

“We need to be safe.” Peeta frowned. “I won’t risk you. I almost dropped you today already.”

Balancing her on his shoulder while she developed her leg to her ear was complicated in the gym, on the ice it was almost impossible. He was so focused on breaking her fall every time, they never managed the figure.

“Safe never won the games.” She shook her head. “We’ll do what it takes.”

°O°

_Effie knocked on his door and went in without waiting, knowing he wouldn’t answer anyway – he never did in normal situations and right now he was sulking._

_“It’s me. I wanted to see how…” she announced only to stop when she spotted him sprawled on his bed with the bottle in his hand. She pursed her lips and drew out a sigh, closing the door behind her in case anyone wandered by. “_ Really _? After what you confided in me? You are_ really _drinking?”_

_“Fuck off, Trinket.” he spat, bringing the – mercifully, almost full – bottle to his lips._

_She pursed her lips tighter. “You got scared. It happens.”_

_“I didn’t get_ scared _. I almost_ killed _you.” he snarled. “I don’t know what Mags was thinking but we’re never trying this again.”_

_“Of course we will be trying this figure again. This figure will win us Nationals.” she argued. “And trust me, if you had almost killed me, I would still be screaming at you.”_

_“So my blade didn’t open your back then.” he sneered._

_“It’s nothing but a scratch.” she tempered, turning around to lift her shirt and show him. It_ was _nothing. It had hurt when it had happened and she had cried out but it was honestly nothing. “I am perfectly fine, I assure you.”_

_He sat up but shook his head, taking another mouthful of liquor. “I’m not doing it again.”_

_“Haymitch.” she sighed._

_“Fuck off, Effie.” he repeated, bolting to his feet to pace the room like a caged lion._

_She could feel his pent-up anger and fear from where she was standing. They had been doing_ so _much better lately… Mags’ methods to enforce team building were awkward and often emotionally painful but even though they still argued on a daily basis, she felt as if they had struck an understanding during the last three months of training – if not a friendship. Training was doing well. Their Nationals free program was taking shape… It was all based on speed because it was his strength and she could adapt, there were enough_ wow _factors to secure them points and the risk factors were mild but reasonable for that level of competing. Their routine was out of the box and Effie liked it a lot. It was different from anything she would have ever done with Seneca and that was good. A new page._

_“Mind your language.” she snapped, suddenly annoyed too._

_They were losing two hours of training because of his insecurities and she was tired of him turning to alcohol every time something like that happened. They were professional figure skaters, there would be near misses and injuries, it went with the job. She swooped down on him and snatched the bottle from his hand._

_He wasn’t expecting that, she could tell, and he remained stunned in place long enough that she managed to escape to the en-suite bathroom. He grabbed her around the waist just as she was tilting it over the sink and pulled her back. Some whiskey spilled on the floor as they struggled for the bottle._

_“Let go!” he ordered, still holding her tight against his chest with one arm, using his free hand to try and grab the bottle._

_“As you wish.” she snapped, tossing it further away. It shattered on the tiled floor, glass flew everywhere and she realized belatedly that he was barefoot but before she could tell him to be careful, she was manhandled and pinned to the wall._

_“You’re a_ bitch _.” he hissed right in her face._

 _She fully intended to slap him but she buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him instead. His response wasn’t instantaneous but when he caught up, he caught up_ fast _. His tongue pushed between her lips and she opened her mouth readily, more turned on than she should have been by the hard grip he kept on her arms. The kiss was wet and hot and forceful._

_She had never been kissed like that._

_When she ran out of air, she pulled his head back by his hair. She was a little shocked by this wild side of herself she had never explored before. She was a little thrilled too. He refused to be directed though and thus he kissed her again, letting go of her arms to grab her under the thighs and forcing her up. She locked her legs around his waist, responding eagerly to his kiss, trailing one hand under the collar of his shirt…_

_Suddenly she wasn’t pinned to the wall anymore but carried back to the bedroom. He never took his mouth of hers as he lowered her to the bed and there was nothing gentle in the way he tore her clothes from her body. He never stopped to ask if she was sure, he never asked if that was what she wanted. His hands were calloused but warm when they touched her._

_He was rough but never brutal._

_It was nothing like what she was used to._

_They were in perfect synch. It was better than anything they had ever managed to achieve on the ice._

_The cry of pure bliss escaped her throat without her consent, taking her by surprise and prompting him to chuckle against her chest. “I knew Crane was_ shit _in bed.”_

_She was too dazed by the strength of her climax to protest that._

_Afterwards, he rolled off her and they lied side by side for a couple of seconds, panting heavily._

_She wondered if they should talk about what had just happened and then concluded it wasn’t necessary. The tension had been thick from the start. It had been bound to happen._

_“Don’t drink when you are scared.” she requested once she had caught her breath back._

_His chest was still rising and falling quickly. “I wasn’t_ fucking _scared. I’ve got a death count of three already. Don’t want to add a fourth, that’s all.”_

_She briefly covered her face with her hands, knowing he wasn’t in any state to listen to rational arguments on that account. “Haymitch…”_

_“I don’t do pillow talk.” he growled. “Either shut up or get out.”_

_She huffed in annoyance and sat up, straddling him briefly to get out on his side of the bed given that it was where her clothes were. She slipped her panties and her sports bra back on quickly, not looking back at him._

_“You don’t have to drink when you are feeling overwhelmed.” she declared, pulling her flannel training pants back on. “That was all I was going to say. There are other ways to stop thinking.”_

_“Like what?” he scoffed. “Drugs?”_

_“Sex.” she snapped. “Do keep up on what I am saying.”_

_She wasn’t quite sure what she was offering there but when she bent in two to grab her shirt his arm snatched around her waist and pulled her back on the bed, manhandling her until she was on her stomach and he was straddling her thighs._

_“So what? I can fuck you every time I fancy a drink?” he mocked. “So much for ‘I’m not the fuck buddies’ kind…”_

_His hands ran on the small of her back, his thumbs retracing along the waistband of her pants, before she felt his lips on her skin, following the scratch his blade had accidentally left earlier. It was as much of an apology as she would ever get._

_“If it keeps you sober, I don’t mind.” she replied._

_“Why, sweetheart, thank you for the martyr act.” he sneered. “Thanks. I’ll pass.”_

_She forcefully pushed him off her so she could face him, glaring daggers. “Didn’t you like it?”_

_She tried to kept her voice steady but a touch of vulnerability slipped through. She wasn’t_ that _experienced. She was only twenty and Seneca had been her first and only…_

_His face softened a little. “Hard not to.” A slow smirk stretched his lips. “I think we’re better at this than at skating. Say, sweetheart… Do they have sex competitions?”_

_“You are insufferable.” she sighed, shaking her head with fondness. “You are single. I am single. Where is the wrong in this? If you need comfort, you can come to me. I am your partner, you can rely on me. And I would like this better than you getting drunk.”_

_He thought that over for a moment and then shrugged. “Works both ways, then. When your mother riles you up and you need an outlet, you come to me instead of bottling it up. But it’s all fun, right? No strings attached.”_

_“Oh, that is very fine with me.” she replied. “I am done with romance.”_

_“Good.” he snorted, coiling his hand around her nape to pull her into a messy kiss._

_Effie quickly decided it was the best kind of kisses._

 


	7. Chapter 7

**_ 7. _ **

“We are not progressing well enough.” Effie declared after a month and a half of them training. “The competition is in _a month_ and you are simply _not_ convincing me.”

Peeta looked down at his skates, accepting the criticism, but Katniss simply huffed. “We’re doing everything you tell us!”

“Yeah, and it’s still not enough.” Haymitch shrugged. “The technique is good. The figures are good. You know the routines. It’s what’s going on between you two that spoils the whole thing.”

“ _Nothing_ is going between us.” she sighed before Peeta could discreetly tell her to just stay silent.

“ _That_ is obvious.” Effie declared, folding her arms over her chest. She wasn’t wearing her training outfit, she was in a bright blue dress instead and she had heels on her feet not skates. Haymitch hadn’t bothered with skates either. Peeta just _knew_ he wouldn’t like whatever they had in mind.

“Heads up, the boy’s not the problem.” Haymitch added, pointing an accusing finger at Katniss. “ _You_ are. You’re closed. Nothing’s happening here.” He waved at his face. “Or here.” He gestured between the two of them. “You’re giving me a whole lot of _nothing_. You’re cold. Empty. No connection, no chemistry. _Nothing_. It’s boring. You will get points for technique but technique will only take you so far.”

Katniss sulked.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Effie sighed.

He briefly wondered if it was a rehearsed speech. It felt like a rehearsed speech to him. The thought of their trainers rehearsing this made him want to laugh but it was probably nerves because he had a very, very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He just hoped they wouldn’t force them to hug or to run their hands over each other for hours again – he could never look Katniss in the eyes afterwards.

“Haymitch and I are going to leave you alone.” Effie stated and it sounded ominous. “We want you to share something personal with each other, something you wouldn’t tell another living soul. It can be your deepest fear, a secret or your greatest shame… _Anything_. The aim is to put yourself entirely into each other’s hands, hand your partner power over you. This is about trust.” She paused and flashed them a bright cheerful smile. “Now, we know this is not easy but we trust you to do as we ask.”

Peeta rubbed his eyes not even watching as their coaches left the rink as promised.

The silence was deafening and, knowing Katniss wouldn’t talk first, he cleared his throat. “Are you alright with this?”

She tossed him _a look_ that clearly meant _no_ , she wasn’t alright with this and he was _stupid_ for even asking. She angrily glided to the edge of the rink, placed her blades protections on and flopped down on the armchair. She tugged on the shoelaces with brisk movements and kicked her skates off while Peeta joined her on the other armchair at a more leisured pace.

“I used to sing.” she said abruptly while he took off his skates. He glanced up at her, studying the way she curled up on the armchair in a manner that was less relaxed than defensive. She folded her legs close to her chest and propped her chin on her knees – a shield – her grey eyes sparkling with annoyance.

“I draw.” he shrugged. “I paint when I can get my hands on oils.” He slowly slipped his feet out of his skates and looked at his red socks. “I don’t think that’s what they meant, Katniss.”

“I used to sing with my Dad and I stopped when he died.” she snapped, staring at the ice rather than looking at him.

Now he felt like an idiot.

“I’m sorry.” he said sincerely.

“Yeah, everyone is always sorry.” she shrugged. “It doesn’t help. I don’t understand why people always say that.”

“I don’t know.” he winced a little. “That’s just what people say when they don’t know _what_ to say, I guess.” He sat sideways on the armchair, angling his body toward her. He hesitated a little but she had started so… “How did it happen? Your father…”

“You first.” she retorted, almost snarling in her defensiveness.

He opened his mouth and closed it. It felt almost dizzying to be on the verge of a confession so big, like standing on the edge of a precipice, about to free fall to a certain death and hoping someone would be there to catch you. He supposed that was the point of the exercise, to make them grow closer.

It was a huge leap of faith to confide in someone who was always so guarded as she was.

It was a huge leap of faith to confide at all when he had never tell anyone else in his entire life.

“My mom used to hit me when I was a kid.”

The words came out more easily than he had thought they would but they were followed by a heavy silence. He didn’t quite look at her, suddenly understanding her need to stare at something neutral, something that wouldn’t _judge_.

“Not just me, my brothers too, but me more than them.” he continued. “She made us help out at the bakery and accidents happen, the bread burns sometimes… She said it was a waste and it made her s _o_ angry… She’s not really a nice person.”

“I’m sorry.” she whispered.

He forced a smile on and took a playful tone. “See? That’s what you say when you don’t know what to say.”

Her lips stretched into a small smile.

“Yes.” she chuckled. “I guess so.”

She was uncomfortable, he could see – uncomfortable with the situation as well as with his secret. He trusted her with it though, that was the oddest thing. He knew she wouldn’t go and babble about it. It wasn’t in her nature. So, gradually, he relaxed.

“He was a miner.” she said eventually. “My dad. There was a cave-in and he…” She shrugged. “Sometimes I have nightmares about it. I don’t like small dark places. I always think…” She stopped, took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Is this enough?”

“You tell me.” he shrugged. “If you want to say more, I’ll listen. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I…” He hesitated. “Look, Katniss, I’m your friend, alright? We are _friends_. I trust you. And you can trust me too. _Completely_ trust me, I mean.”

She studied him for a moment and then looked down. “I don’t trust anyone completely. It’s not about you, it’s just… I have enough people to be responsible for to add to that.”

He frowned. “You don’t have to be responsible for me because we’re friends. I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” she scoffed. “How do I know? How do I know I won’t end up having to take care of you like I take care of Prim and my Mom? I _love_ them but it’s difficult to be the one in charge all the time.”

“Then _don’t_ _be_.” he argued. “That’s the whole point. We’re _partners_. You rely on me, I rely on you. We’re equal. You don’t have to be in charge, we can be in charge _together._ ”

“Together…” she repeated.

“Yes.” he nodded.  

At least, they could try.

°O°

 _“You are giving me_ nothing _.” Mags raged in an uncharacteristic fit of temper. Effie automatically glided closer to Haymitch. One month and a half of training had drilled some reflexes into her – like getting behind him to let him handle the blunt of Mags’ frustration._

_“We’ve been practicing that figure for five minutes.” Haymitch grumbled. “Give us a break.”_

_Mags had dubbed the figure_ The Eagle _. Effie was supposed to wedge her foot against his hip while he glided in second position and extend her leg behind her, once he let go of her hand, it would look like she was flying. So far they had only managed to get her up on his hip twice without falling, and the only time she had let his hand go she had ended up battling her arms like a silly bird to control her balance before toppling over right into his arms. He had promptly declared they shouldn’t call it_ The Eagle _but_ The Goose _because Effie looked like a silly goose._

_“This is not about the move.” Mags clicked her tongue once. “This is about you two. You are giving me nothing here or here.” She waved at her face and then between the two of them. “You’ve got chemistry but you are not exploiting it. You two are boring to watch.”_

_“Please, tell me that means another fondling session…” he smirked. “It’s been too long since I groped her.”_

_Effie whacked his shoulder hard, annoyed. Mags gave them those ridiculous team building exercises where they had to hug or run their hands over each other’s body to get used to touching each other on the ice… It was all fun and game until Haymitch grew bored and started teasing her by putting his hands in inappropriate places. It wasn’t that she minded. Actually, that was what irritated her: she didn’t_ quite _mind._

 _They were partners. It was supposed to be professional. She never had any problems separating work and personal life with Seneca and they had been_ involved _._

_But Haymitch…_

_Haymitch was something else entirely. Every time they touched it felt loaded with unvoiced intent. Sometimes she spied him staring at her from the corner of her eyes and his gaze was so full of heat it made her shiver. She had never quite understood what lust felt like before she had met him, but now she kept that under lock and key, buried deep inside herself because such unprofessional thoughts had no place on the rink._

_Even if the few times he had taken off his shirt during training she had almost drooled with_ want _._

_She knew she affected him in the same way, that was her only consolation._

_Mags wasn’t amused by his antics. Her frown was severe and her lips were pursed tight._

_“I am going to leave you alone for one hour.” their trainer declared. “I want you to share something, something so private, when I come back in here I will see two people united by a profound bound of trust. Am I clear?”_

_“Not really.” he scoffed._

_Mags glared at him, pointing a warning finger at his chest. “You, boy, are going to tell her your deepest secret so she knows you trust her with everything you have. And you…” she turned to Effie. “…will do the very same. You will both thank me when you are World Champions.”_

_She left, muttering under her breath about stubborn young people, leaving Haymitch and Effie to stare at her retreating back. The door to the rink slammed shut behind her and Effie, who wasn’t usually subject to claustrophobia, felt trapped._

_“That’s bullshit.” Haymitch scowled. “Come on, let’s practice_ The Goose _. She’ll calm down.”_

_“That is not what she asked us to do.” Effie pointed out._

_“And you_ always _do what you’re told, right, Trinket?” he mocked._

 _She didn’t like it when he called her by her last name. He had a system, she had noticed._ Trinket _was when he was either frustrated or angry with her,_ Effie _meant he was dead serious, and his random pet names were either mocking or fond depending on the situation._

 _Right now, she figured_ Trinket _meant he was out of his comfort zone._

 _“It is called_ The Eagle _not_ The Goose _.” she pointed out with a sigh, getting into position._

_“I renamed it for you. It’s a tribute.” he retorted, wriggling his eyebrows. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”_

_She shook her head and went for it. He bent his knees, she wedged her foot against his hip and pushed, propping himself on his hand… For a second, she was there, leg outstretched behind her, arms in position… She let go of his hand and she was soaring… Right until she tumbled forward, unable to get her balance right and_ thank god _he managed to break her fall. He didn’t catch her properly this time though, only grabbing her torso, dragging her legs on a few feet on the ice._

_“You’re okay?” he asked immediately after they had stopped free gliding and he had hauled her back on her skates._

_“Yes.” she said but winced when she put her weight on her knee. “Perhaps we should take a small break.”_

_She escaped his hands and tried to skate toward the armchairs only to lose footing. He caught her more gently than she expected. She tried to get free but he wouldn’t relent, shooting her leg a concerned glance. It annoyed her but his grip was firm. “Let me help.”_

_“I don’t_ need _help.” she snapped. “I am fine.”_

_“Yeah, you’re just peachy.” he spat, letting go of her. “Suit yourself, sweetheart.”_

_Reaching the edge of the rink was trickier than she would have liked and she limped to the chair – there was no hiding that when he was watching her. She immediately unlaced her skate to relieve her leg of the weight and outstretched it, biting her bottom lip to swallow back a hiss. She heard him move around but she was more concerned with wrapping her hands around her knee to estimate the swelling._

_Something was tossed on her lap. Ibuprofen. She looked up and took the bottle of water he was handing her._

_“Thank you.” she said reluctantly, because she had manners. “I do apologize. I will be ready to practice in a moment.”_

_He shrugged and slumped in the other armchair. “It’s fine. Take your time.”_

_She hesitated and then rolled up the leg of her fleece training pants, assessing the damage. It wasn’t too swollen that day. She swallowed a pill and then pressed the bottle against her skin. It wasn’t cold enough to bring relief but it was still cold and it would have to do._

_“I can go fetch you a pack of ice.” he offered._

_“It is unnecessary, thank you.” she replied quietly._

_“How bad is it?” he asked, his grey eyes staring at the ugly scar on the side of her knee._

_“I am fine.” she insisted._

_“So you said.” He rolled his eyes. “Again and again. You know I know it’s a lie right? You don’t have strength in that knee. I’ve got to compensate for it when I help you jump.”_

_Her face flushed crimson. “I will work on that.”_

_“That’s not what I meant.” he sighed. “Look… You’re hurt. It’s not your fault. I’m just asking. How bad is it? Every time I toss you I’m scared your leg won’t hold on landing.”_

_“It will hold.” she hissed. “It will_ always _hold.”_

_She will force it to. She had worked too hard for her body to betray her._

_“Is that the truth or wishful thinking?” he snorted._

_She stared at the bottle in her hand, blinking back the tears burning her eyes. She wasn’t prone to crying fits but the last month and a half had been exhausting. She had trained harder than ever and it was taking its toll._

_“It_ has _to.” she whispered._

_His fingers were drumming distractedly against the armrest. He was slouched in a way that was neither proper nor good for his back but she didn’t call him out on it for once._

_“Don’t shut me out of that.” he requested just as quietly. “You tell me when it hurts, I can help. We can work something out. If you can’t jump I can toss you higher. If you can’t push on it, I can lift you up. We_ can _work_ around _it.”_

 _Her eyes darted to him and back to the scar. “You_ do _realize that it was why Seneca left, of course. You shouldn’t have to work around it. There are better partners out there. You have a suitable level now. You could probably find someone else with Plutarch’s help. Someone who wouldn’t be damaged.”_

_He shrugged. “I’ve got nothing against damaged. I’m not exactly whole myself in case you didn’t notice, sweetheart.”_

_She wondered if that was what Mags expected of them: sit and talk. They talked everyday but they didn’t really_ share _. Effie was outgoing but naturally kept her secrets and feelings close to her chest and Haymitch… Haymitch wasn’t talkative. He usually let her do the chatting when he wasn’t interrupting with inane gibes._

_“Do you want the truth?” she asked._

_She thought it would have been rude to impart truths without asking first. People were entitled to their ignorance in her opinion. It was certainly easier to pretend than to face reality. She excelled at pretending._

_“You tell me.” he smirked, leaning over to snatch the bottle from her hand. His fingers brushed her skin and she briefly wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body. She chased that thought away quickly. It was his smirk. His smirk was insolent and infuriating and it did things to her stomach. She watched as he brought the bottle to his lips and swallowed a few mouthfuls of water, she watched his Adam’s apple bobbling up and down and had to suppress the urge to_ reach out _and_ touch _… Clearly, she wasn’t being subtle because he handed her the bottle back, his grey eyes twinkling with amusement. “Keep on looking at me like that and we’ll share something private_ alright _, Princess.”_

 _She shook her head, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at him. “Nothing of that sort will_ ever _happen.”_

_“If you say so.” he taunted._

_“I say so.” she huffed._

_She pressed the now half empty bottle to her knee again._

_“Come on…” he prompted, slumping further down the armchair. “I’m waiting for the terrible truth.”_

_She took her time answering that, she took her time choosing her words and pondering what she hadn’t really admitted out loud yet. She had been denying it ever since she had been evacuated from the stadium in an ambulance, ever since the surgery and the doctor’s gentle but firm warnings she would never skate the way she used to, ever since they had told her competitions were over for her…_

_“Mother is right.” she declared. “I am just deluding myself. I will never win anything again. I dragged you into this hopeless quest of mine, you deserve better and I am sorry.”_

_He was silent for a while, watching her staring at her knee. Eventually, he nudged her good leg with his still skate-clad foot._

_“You dragged me into nothing.” he said firmly. “If you hadn’t come and get me I would probably be drunk in a ditch right now. Or worse.” It was his turn to look away. He made an effort to keep his voice casual but it wasn’t enough to hide the bitterness and the pain underneath. “Didn’t have pretty thoughts inside my head when we met.”_

_She hesitated a little because he was never open and rarely talked about himself at all._

_“Because of the accident?” she tried anyway. She should have been more peeved by that than she was. Someone was dead because he had been careless. And now her life was in his hands every time they stepped on the rink. Yet she wasn’t nervous. From the very first day he had proved to her that her safety was his priority. If there was one rule he took to heart it was the first one: protect the girl._

_“Accident.” he repeated slowly with a snarl. “That’s a stupid way to call it. I_ killed _that guy.”_

 _“You didn’t mean to.” she corrected quietly. “It_ was _an accident.”_

_“I didn’t mean to…” he chuckled. “You talk like Chaff. You think it makes a difference to this guy’s family if I meant to or not? You think it makes a difference to me? He’s still dead. I still did it. If I hadn’t been wasted…” He stopped abruptly. She reached out to cover his hand but he jerked away from her touch. “Don’t.”_

_“I would like to help.” she offered._

_“I’m a murderer. There’s no helping with that.” he sneered. “I’ve got this habit of killing people_ without meaning to _. You should watch out really…”_

_His pain was so raw it hurt her. She felt ridiculous with her petty problems compared to that._

_“Why were you drunk?” she asked._

_“’Cause the thought of playing made me sick.” he confessed, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes. “I wanted to quit, the coach wouldn’t let me. And it made me sick. It was my first match since…”_

_He stopped again._

_“Since?” she prompted._

_The sneer he turned on her was aggressive, almost scary. “What are you? My shrink?”_

_She outstretched her hand but didn’t touch him. She just let it hover between them, palm up. “You can trust me, Haymitch. I won’t judge.”_

_“You should.” he snapped, eyeing her hand with open mistrust. She kept it there. Waiting. He was like a wounded animal sometimes – not that she had any experience with that – and it required patience. Slowly, he took her hand, entwining their fingers, but he didn’t look at her. “My family died in a car crash. I killed them too.”_

_Her emotions must have flashed on her face because he cringed and tried to move away from her. She held him back by their locked hands, schooling her features into something neutral, something he wouldn’t mistake for pity – she instinctively knew that it would have been the worst thing._

_“Were you driving?” she asked the obvious question._

_“No.” He gritted his teeth. “My Mom was tired but I was playing at home for the first time in months so I made a big fuss until she agreed to come and watch the match anyway. She took the car. She crashed it. It caught fire. She and my brother burned alive.”_

_“Haymitch…” she breathed out._

_“Yeah, you haven’t seen anything until someone calls you to the morgue to indentify your family’s charred corpses.” he chuckled. “Is that private and deep enough for you, sweetheart? We’re magically better now, you think?”_

_He snatched his hand from hers and bolted to his feet, angrily taking laps around the rink, practicing the triple loop jump Mags had told him was unnecessary since he wasn’t a solo skater. He was being reckless, putting too much energy in his push and not being careful enough on landing. She hurried in lacing her skate back, scared he would injure himself. She completely ignored the pain in her knee when she glided to him, almost colliding with him as he was about to jump again – he was her partner and he was in pain, that was more important._

_“What the_ fuck _are you doing?” he spat._

_She wrapped her arms around his neck and when he tried to push her away, she jumped and locked her legs around his waist, effectively hugging him like an octopus. They free-glided again for a while until he adjusted his grip on her._

_“I don’t need cuddles.” he grumbled._

_“Yes, you do.” she hissed. “You, stupid_ stupid _man. Yes, you do.” She ran her fingers in his hair in a soothing fashion until he relented and buried his face in her neck. It was different from the hundreds of times Mags had forced them to do that. This time, it felt real. “It wasn’t your fault.”_

_“Don’t say that.” he snarled against her skin. “Yeah, it was.”_

_She kept her voice soft but stern. “No, Haymitch. The car accident truly wasn’t.” She petted his hair gently. “Is that why you drink?”_

_“I drink because it’s easy.” he said. “I’m scared how easy sometimes.”_

_“You should fight it.” she told him. “You shouldn’t give in to that. Ever.”_

_“I’m sharing an awful lot and you’re not.” he muttered._

_“I don’t… My problems feel small now.” she confessed._

_“Tell me.” he commanded, pressing a kiss against her neck before looking up. That was new. And it took her breath away for a second. She barely felt his lips but the stubble itched in a pleasant way against her sensitive skin. She blinked, batting her eyelashes to hide her confusion. His grey eyes were staring straight at her with a focus and an intensity few people had ever gifted her with in the past. Right now, to him, she was the only thing existing in the universe and, she thought, somehow, that was exactly what she was after. Attention._

_“It’s ridiculous.” she warned him._

_“_ You _’re ridiculous.” he snorted. “What’s new?”_

_It was her turn to look away. “I need to win an Olympic gold medal. I feel as if as long as I don’t have one I am worth nothing.”_

_“That’s_ bullshit _.” he scoffed. “You’ve got a room full of trophies.”_

 _“Most of them are my mother’s.” she sighed. “And she thinks Seneca was the awards winner in our partnership. I am not good enough for any of them. I am only second best. I am_ always _only second best to her, to Seneca, to my father when he remembers I exist… If I could just prove it to her that…”_

 _“Sweetheart, you will_ never _prove it to her.” he cut her off. “She’s a bitch. She’s twisted and nasty.”_

_“She simply wants the best for me.” she argued._

_“If you say so.” he shrugged. “I think you should do what makes you happy. If you want to win a gold medal, fine. But do it for_ yourself, _not for her. You’re_ fucking _talented, Effie. Look what you made of_ me. _A month and a half ago I was just a finished hockey player…”_

_“That was Mags.” she said, ducking her head._

_“That was_ you _.” he retorted, bringing his hand to her face to nudge her chin up. Her knee was starting to hurt in that position so she unlocked her legs from around his waist and slowly touched ground. She didn’t move away though, rather enjoying the way he was cupping her cheek. “You’re not second best. You’ll never be second best.” His thumb left her chin to gently brush against her lips. “And if you’re not good enough for them,_ screw them _. You’re the best.”_

_She placed a hand on his chest, his shirt creasing a little under her fingers. She angled her face the right way and he leaned in and…_

_The door opened and Mags strode in._

_They sprung apart guiltily._

_The old woman studied them with an amused spark in her eyes and then she lifted her eyebrows. “That is not exactly what I asked of you.”_

_“We did the soul-sharing.” Haymitch grumbled. “Now we’re working or what?”_

_There was a tinge of awkwardness when he grabbed her hand to try_ The Eagle – _or_ The Goose _or whatever he wanted to call it – again but Effie was too professional to let it bother her. She swept it under the rug with the almost-kiss._

_It had no place on the rink._


	8. Chapter 8

“I hope they will be alright.” Effie sighed, as soon as the rink’s door closed behind them.

“We survived.” Haymitch shrugged. “They’ll too.”

The soul-sharing thing had been painful for them. He hadn’t particularly enjoyed baring his past and his fears for her but it _had_ made them closer – not as close as falling in bed together, granted; _that_ had been what had helped them be in perfect synch on the ice but he wasn’t about to suggest that to the kids.

She opened her mouth to answer but her eyes darted to something at the base of the hill, well past the gates of the estate. “Oh, dear.”

She went white.

Haymitch barely had time to glimpse the car before it disappeared between trees, out of sight.

“Does your mother still use shiny limos?” he asked.

“She did the last time I saw her.” Effie winced, already moving on the path that would take her all the way around the house.

“You said no dragon.” He made a face, hurrying to catch up with her. “You _promised_ the trip would be dragon-free.”

“She hasn’t been here since my father made it clear the house was mine, Haymitch.” she snapped. “How was I supposed to know she would… She must have heard through the grapevine we are back together. I tried to keep it quiet but with the competition so near people are bound to talk. I had a call from Caesar last night, I meant to tell you. He wanted to know if it was true and if we would give him an interview.”

There were a lot of important information in there but he only really registered one.

“Back together?” he repeated, slightly teasing and slightly… Hopeful maybe.

She shot him one of her _don’t be an idiot_ looks. “Professionally.”

“Sure.” he agreed smoothly, resisting the urge to reach out and show her just how _professional_ they would never manage to be.

“Oh, this is bad…” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I have no desire to deal with my mother now. She will meddle.”

“I’ll tell her to go _fuck_ herself.” he suggested helpfully. “I’ve got no problems with telling her that, remember, sweetheart?” 

“Vividly.” She rolled her eyes. “I also remember having to smooth ruffled feathers for weeks.”

“ _Come on,_ you got a kick out of that.” he snorted, nudging her shoulder with his.

“Well… You _did_ face the dragon to defend me.” she grinned. “Why, that was almost chivalrous of you.” They reached the front of the house and stood there, waiting for the limo. Effie adjusted her scarf and shot him an amused look. “You can run. I can deal with this on my own.”

“What if you need someone to kill the dragon for you?” he smirked, lifting his eyebrows.

“I do my own slaying nowadays.” she replied, her face becoming stern as the limo came into view. “I should warn you we are _not_ on the best terms. It might become ugly. I apologize in advance.”

“Don’t break a nail punching her, Princess.” he mocked.

“Ladies don’t punch, Haymitch.” she retorted. “They slap.”

“Yeah, I remember that too.” he chuckled, reaching for his cheek as if in reflex.

There was no time to say more, the limo slowed down to a stop right in front of the house’s entrance and the driver hurried around the car to open the door. Haymitch braced himself for the dragon’s appearance, certain time wouldn’t have been kind with Elindra Trinket, only to find himself faced with a lean man with a heap of dyed jay black hair on his head who smiled as soon as he spotted Effie.

Effie relaxed at once and her face broke into a beaming smile. “Father!”

She rushed to embrace Tadius, leaving Haymitch to stand there, feeling a little awkward.

“Hello, darling.” Tadius said, kissing her cheek. “I am terribly sorry to impose unannounced but my flight was detoured and it seemed stupid to rent a hotel room… I’m leaving in the morning, you won’t even know I’m here I promise.” Effie hurried in telling him he was welcomed naturally but Tadius kept on apologizing for not warning her first, apologies that kept on coming when he spotted Haymitch. “Oh, and you are entertaining too! I _am_ sorry, darling, maybe I should… _Haymitch_?”

It wasn’t such a surprise it had taken so long for the man to recognize him. Haymitch wasn’t exactly twenty-two anymore and in the almost three years he had been living in Aspen, he had only seen Tadius a few times. The man was always away on business trips and rarely stayed home more than three days at a time – and with a wife like Elindra, that was all the more understandable but apparently divorce simply wasn’t done in some social circles.

“Hello, sir.” Haymitch offered, outstretching a hand.

He liked her father well enough – again compared with her mother he was the lesser of two evils – Tadius was the kind to lock himself in his office all evening with a book. He had always been very astute at avoiding Elindra’s wild parties and, despite the status difference, he had never treated Haymitch badly. They had even shared a few interesting conversations about books and politics.

Tadius shook his hand with a stunned expression and looked at her daughter who simply sighed.

“There is _a lot_ to explain. Why don’t we go inside?” she suggested.

He offered to leave them to their family reunion but Effie grabbed his arm and pointedly dragged him into the smallest sitting-room with her. That was her father’s favorite room and the one she tended to use when she was entertaining close friends or family – and it was probably telling he _knew_ all that.

She went to fetch tea, leaving to him the painful chore of making small talk. It was awkward. Her father kept studying him, polite but guarded, and Haymitch felt more than once like he was being judged or tested. He was only too happy to leave the actual explaining to her once she came back with tea and biscuits.

“I was hoping to keep it from Mother a while longer.” Effie concluded.

Tadius placed down his cup of tea on the saucer and put it back on the tray with a wistful face. “Last I heard, Elindra was in Germany on the federation’s behalf.”

“I think she moved to Russia now.” she corrected. “I would have to ask Plutarch.”

Tadius shook his head. “The point is, my darling, you won’t be able to hide _this_ from her forever. I don’t think she will oppose you training young people for competitions but she will certainly have something to say about who you are doing it with…” Haymitch chose to look at his boots and pretended not to understand but it didn’t deter the man. “May I ask… Is this a long-term arrangement? Are you…”

“This is a professional arrangement that will stand as long as Katniss and Peeta need us.” she declared firmly. And that was the end of that, really.

They heard the muffled sounds of voices and footsteps in the corridor.

“Speaking of the devils…” Haymitch muttered.  

Introductions were brief and to the point. Katniss declared herself tired and went to lock herself in her room. Peeta said he wanted to draw a little before dinner but, when asked, insisted he and Katniss were good.

He and Effie figured the team building session had been emotional and let it rest.

Dinner was a quiet affair.

Katniss didn’t come down. Peeta and Effie made most of the conversation and Haymitch escaped as soon as he could. He was in the office turned trophy room, browsing the shelves to find something to read when he felt the presence on the threshold. Tadius was watching him with a blank face and he instinctively knew he was facing the businessman and not the rather nice affable man he had known in the past.

“Sorry.” Haymitch mumbled because he was still very much intruding in the man’s office. “Just wanted a book.”

“There are a few new ones on the lower shelves you might like.” Tadius offered, calmly walking to the decanter of whiskey sitting on a table in a corner of the room. “Drink?”

His instinctive answer was a desperate _yes_ but he had already drunk three glasses that day and he knew he didn’t _need_ a fourth. The tremor in his fingers was under control and if the _thirst_ was great, with Effie around it was tamable.

“No, thanks.” he answered, watching with envy as the man poured himself a glass and brought it to his lips.

He could almost _taste_ it.

“Do you think those children really stand a chance?” Tadius asked casually. “She is already dreaming about an Olympic gold medal by proxy, you realize.”

He had never liked discussing Effie behind her back. He selected a book at random, not even glancing at the title.

“Maybe.” he shrugged. “If they do what we tell them. Goodnight, sir.”

It was uncanny how the _sir_ still slipped past his lips, as if he was still the twenty-three year old kid desperate to impress his girl’s father because her mother already hated him.

He didn’t even reached the desk. The man’s next remark hit him first. “I _was_ surprised to see you here, Haymitch. I am not surprised she allowed you back in, mind you, but I _am_ quite astonished that you would come back here after everything.”

“Fate has a twisted sense of humor.” he sneered.

“ _Fate_.” Tadius spat, rather bitter. “Is that what we call Plutarch Heavensbee nowadays? What do you want from my daughter?”

“I’m not after her money if that’s your question.” he snarled defensively. Elindra had just _loved_ that argument in the past.

“Oh, I know…” the man granted, dismissing that with an impatient wave of his glass. “You never cared about that. That is what makes you dangerous. One would argue everyone has a price but there are a few remarkable people who can’t be bought and you are one of those.”

“Dangerous.” he repeated flatly. “Look, I’m just here for the kids. _She_ dragged me here.”

“Of course, she did.” Tadius answered with fondness. His face hardened. “And, yes, _dangerous_. You were so different from the men she was used to… I don’t think you realize how completely she fell for you. Do you know when Seneca left, she only cried for an hour before picking herself up and moving on – and then again I have a feeling thirty minutes of that breakdown were due to her injury and the fear she would never be able to skate again. At no point did she quit. At no point did she lose the will of going on the rink. My daughter is an athlete, Haymitch. I always admired how dedicated to her art she was.”

Haymitch looked down at the book in his hand. It was a thriller of some sort if it could be judged by its cover.

“I never meant to hurt her.” he said.

“You didn’t hurt her.” Tadius corrected. “You _destroyed_ her. I had to come back home to take care of her. _Mags Cohen_ had to call me because it was too bad for _her_ to handle on her own.”

“I’m sure it was terrible to have to spend some time with her.” Haymitch sneered. “You’ve got _balls_ to judge when you never took an interest in…”

“I never claimed to be father of the year.” the man cut him off coldly. “She was so completely Elindra’s creature in her childhood there was no place for me in her life. And that is not the point.” The glass was slowly placed down on the small table next to the decanter. “She refused to train. For weeks. No matter what Mags said, no matter what I or her mother said… She refused to train. I think she was waiting for you to come back.” Tadius was glaring now. “You broke my little girl’s heart.”

What was there to answer to that? He remained silent even though Tadius clearly expected an explanation.

“You were right for her, Haymitch.” her father continued after a moment. “And I know you loved her too. It was glaring for anyone standing in the same room as the two of you. I need to ask. I need to ask because it has been plaguing me for fifteen years. Did my wife…”

“It would take more than that _bitch_ to get me away from Effie.” Haymitch scoffed. “I had my reasons.”

“I hope they were good ones.” Tadius snapped. “Because you left her in pieces. No other partner would work for her. She lost her love for it. When she retired, her heart had been out of the game for two years already and it was almost a relief. Of course that’s when my dear wife thought it clever to pressure her into things she didn’t want like finding a husband or getting involved with the federation… I had to make clear the house now belonged to Effie and she could do whatever she wanted with the rink, give classes to children if that was what she so wished. You know how I _do_ hate conflict.” He shook his head. “It’s not only her life you put upside down, it was ours too.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” he sneered.

He started walking toward the door again, intending to finally make his retreat but he was stopped once more by the man’s intrusive question. “What was so important?”

Haymitch shook his head, suddenly tired and desperate for that drink he had just refused.

“Her.” he said, his voice rough. “ _Always_ her.” 

He left it at that, knowing Tadius wouldn’t understand and unable to shut the memories from his mind. _Here’s looking at you, kid_ , Bogart’s voice mocked in his head. That bastard had been mocking him for more than a decade.

“Don’t break her heart again.” Tadius warned as he was leaving the office.

His luck being what it was, he met her on the first landing.   

She took one look at him and frowned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” he snapped, gruff, moving to sidestep her.

She placed a hand on his chest to stop him, studying him. “Are you craving a drink?”

The question was gentle, almost tentative. He didn’t want her kindness. Her kindness made him sick to the stomach because he _knew_ he had hurt her and it didn’t matter that he had been hurt in the process too.

“Why?” he snarled. “You’re going to let me _fuck_ you against that banister just to get the thirst out of me like good old times?”

She recoiled, taking her hand off his chest as if it had been burned and now he _truly_ craved a drink. He ran his hand on his face, wishing he had never come back to Aspen, wishing Plutarch hadn’t interfered again, wishing…

“Sweetheart…” he sighed.

“Is that all I ever was to you?” she whispered. “A way to _fuck_ the thirst out of you until I simply wasn’t good enough anymore?”

He reached out, grabbing her hand before she could run away. When she used that sort of language it was usually _bad_.

“Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t suit you.” he scowled.

“I am trying to understand.” she snapped. “I have been trying to understand for _years_.”

“Nothing to understand.” he shrugged. “I’m the one who wasn’t good enough.”

“Was it because of what happened before the free program?” she asked. “Because I forgave you, Haymitch. I _forgave_ you. I would have forgiven you even before we had left Japan.”

A small sad smile found its way to his lips and he let go of her wrist to brush his fingers against her cheek. She didn’t move when he leaned in to press his mouth against hers. He barely made contact. It could barely be called a kiss. It was simply a ghost of something. A memory, almost. He pressed his lips against her forehead next and it was firmer this time.

“I couldn’t be second best.” he muttered against her skin. “And you deserved more.”

“You said that before but it still doesn’t make sense to me.” she whispered, stepping closer to tuck herself into him. His arms wrapped around her automatically. He had never understood how this pull worked but when they were together in the same space, it was like gravity shifted, they were drawn to each other like they had never been drawn to anything else.

“You had your dreams. I had mine.” he mumbled. “They didn’t match.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, they matched.” she frowned, searching his eyes. “We wanted an Olympic gold medal.”

He shook his head, having no desire to revisit that particular moment. He pressed his lips against her forehead again just because she was there and he _could_ and let go of her. It was difficult to convince himself to drop his arms but he had plenty of practice at leaving her behind.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

He tried not to notice the pain on her face.

°o°

_Japan was a strange place but the Olympic Village was Western enough that Haymitch felt less out of sort than outside of it._

_He wasn’t supposed to still be there, of course. He should already have been at the Olympic rink, warming up and rehearsing. They were probably looking for him by now._

_The Village was Western enough that he found a bar and ordered a whiskey. He hadn’t touched a drink in almost a year and a half aside for the occasional flute of champagne, he had rarely felt the urge to or, if he had, Effie had always been there to distract him._

_The previous night conversation was weighing heavily on his mind. He had tried to push it aside, to not give it too much importance. She was under a lot of stress, she was scared her knee wouldn’t hold, her dream was finally within reach…_

_Her dream…_

_Her obsession for an Olympic gold medal had always been something he had taken in stride. He wanted one too. He wanted to win._

_But that wasn’t his dream. Not all of it, at least._

_He wanted more._

_The square box he had been carrying in his pocket felt out of place now. He had dragged Chaff into three jewelries before finding the perfect ring but his friend hadn’t complained – best man duties and all that jazz._

_Win or lose, he had been planning on proposing after the podium, make this a day to truly remember._

_And now…_

_He hadn’t left with Mags and Effie because he had forgotten the ring in their room. When he had realized, he had told them he would catch up. Except after last night, forgetting the ring felt less like an accident and more like a Freudian slip. Had he done it on purpose? He wasn’t sure anymore. He wasn’t sure about anything._

_Effie had given him everything._

_She had given him his life back._

_He had been drowning and she was oxygen._

_She was everything to him._ Everything _._

_Win or lose, he would have been happy. But he knew she wouldn’t._

_And he couldn’t be second best. It would destroy them,_ him _._

_He didn’t even finish the glass of whiskey, he just took one sip. He still had to perform._

_When he left the Village for the rink, the ring remained in the room. The decision was made even before they got the results. The results didn’t matter, not to him, not really. What he_ would _do after precisely, he didn’t know. Ignore the previous night or address it…_

_He felt strangely disconnected from the world around him._

_People ushered him to the locker rooms. He was late, he gathered, later than he had thought. He changed into his costume, his mind blank, and followed one of those girls from staff who ran everywhere with a earpiece and a mic stuck to their head. The competition had already started, Germany was on the ice._

_Effie sighed in relief when she saw him._

_“Where_ were _you?” she hissed when he came to stand next to her._

_“I’m here.” He coiled his hand around her nape by reflex, squeezing gently to relax her. She didn’t relax. She frowned, a look of dismay slowly making its way on her face._

_“Did you drink?” she asked, sounding flabbergasted. “Don’t lie, I can smell it on your breath. You drank._ Today _of all days, you_ drank _?”_

_Her voice carried to the other US team. Clad in their stars and banners jackets, Enobaria and Brutus exchanged a smile. In the lights, her teeth looked like fangs._

_“I’m not drunk.” he retorted. “We’re fine.”_

_“Are we?” she hissed. “How much did you have to drink?”_

_“Just a sip.” he snapped, annoyed now. “Come on, I wouldn’t risk you. You know I wouldn’t risk you. Or don’t you trust me now?”_

_She stared at him long and hard before turning toward the screen to watch. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leaned against him but didn’t quite relax. She fidgeted with the zipper of her own US jacket._

_“I trust you.” she said eventually but it sounded strained to his ears._

_They watched Enobaria and Brutus perform, cheering because that was what was expected of them. They were in competition but they were also on the same team after all, one should always remember who the real enemy was. They were excellent and Effie fidgeted even more with her zipper when their notes were announced._

_Having ranked first with the short program, he and Effie still had the best shot though._

_When Mags appeared next to them, she whacked his shoulder to berate him from his lateness, took one look at Effie and then frowned. “What is going on between the two of you?”_

_“Nothing.” they answered in a perfect chorus._

_The old woman shook her head. “Now is not the time for this. We worked too hard. Whatever is happening, fix it later. Only now counts. Give your best.”_

_They were called in the waiting area and Effie shed her jacket, her golden jumpsuit immediately catching the lights._

_“One last advice?” he joked in Mags’ direction._

_“Stay alive.” she answered seriously._

_The Russian siblings were performing now and they had a front seat. Cashmere and Gloss were perfect. There was nothing to say, nothing to criticize. It would be a tough act to beat._

_Effie’s hand slipped into his and she clung to his fingers._

_“I am scared.” she whispered._

_“It was only a sip.” he snapped._

_She glanced up at him. “I said I trust you.”_

_She let go of his fingers but he grabbed them back right away, feeling stupid. It wasn’t_ him _she was scared of. It was everything else. “Sorry, sweetheart.”_

_Cashmere and Gloss finished their routine under the cheers and cries of the crowd. While the Russian siblings bowed, he wrapped his hand around her neck again, drawing her closer to him. They hugged as if they were about to jump into a bottomless sea._

_“I want this.” she said in his ear. “I want this more than anything.”_

_“I know.” he answered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He would have kissed her full on the mouth if there hadn’t been so many photographers around. “We’ve got this, Effie.”_

_Did they? The notes Cashmere and Gloss got were easily the highest in the competition and brought Russia in the lead for now. It would all depend on_ their _notes. They had won the day before… They needed to win again today. Effie closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths and forced a bright smile on her lips._

_“Chins up, eyes bright, smiles on.” she reminded him._

_“Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy for the United State.” the host called._

_They launched themselves on the ice, waving at the crowd and taking the traditional turn before taking their place at the center. As he lied down on the ice, waiting for the music to start, never averting his eyes from hers, he wondered if perhaps calling this routine_ Time To Say Goodbye _hadn’t been a mistake._

_They didn’t miss a step. The lifts and jumps were technically perfect. The crowd roared at several moments._

_And yet every time he met her eyes, he knew she felt it too._

_They weren’t as in synch as they usually were, something was missing. Maybe it was the nerves, maybe it was the previous night being too much on his mind, maybe it was her knee or the breach of trust when he had taken that sip of liquor… He didn’t know. He just knew he wasn’t as invested in the performance as he should have been and that she wasn’t either._

_When they finished and they took their bows, Effie seemed to be struggling to keep a bright face on so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they skated to the notation booth._

_“We lost.” she murmured in his ear, burrowing into his side._

_“I know.” he answered because there was nothing else to say._

_Her eyes were bright but she shed no tear. She hugged Mags and put her jacket back on, accepted the flowers from the little girls as well as the various stuffed animals and letters fans always tossed on the rink after performances and didn’t protest when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders again as they were waiting for the notes._

_They were good notes but not enough for gold._

_“Silver is good.” Mags told them as they left the booth. “There will be more Games in four years. I am proud of you. Good job.”_

_She nodded, never parting from that fake cheerful smile, but avoided his hand when he tried to place it on her shoulder._

_She kept on smiling like a maniac but didn’t engage or answer anyone._

_Her world had just crumbled._

_And he was helpless._

°o°

_“So? How is it going?”_

Katniss pondered her best friend’s question for a moment. She was sprawled on her bed, staring at the ceiling, still trying to recover from the emotional turmoil of that day. Peeta’s confession, hers…

“Good.” she answered anyway. “We’re almost there. How’s practice going?” There was a hesitation at the end of the line and she frowned. “You didn’t cut out more hours, did you?”

 _“Look… They were looking for men at the mine.”_ he said.

“Gale, no!” she exclaimed.

 _“I’ve got three siblings to feed, I need money, Catnip. Now. Not when someone decides to take me up on a big team.”_ he sighed. _“We can’t all be figure skaters super stars…”_

“But you are so good…” she lamented. “And the mine…”

 _“Well, you will have to skate for both of us.”_ he replied. _“And don’t worry about the mine. I’ll be careful.”_

“Gale…” she sighed.

 _“I’ve looked in on your mom today.”_ he said. _“She’s doing well, making dinner and everything.”_

“Really?” she asked dubiously. Her mother spent most of her time in bed but she had bouts of energy sometimes, times when she remembered she had two daughters one of two was still in high school and needed to be fed. “How’s Prim?”

 _“She’s great.”_ he said. “ _Madge and I took her to the cinema yesterday.”_

“Madge.” she repeated. “Madge Undersee?”

She hadn’t seen Madge in a while and she hadn’t been aware she and Gale were still in contact.

 _“Yeah…”_ Gale hesitated, clearing his throat. _“You’ve been gone a while, Katniss, and I bumped into her and…”_

“It’s not my business what you do with Madge.” she interrupted him, a little too quickly. “I like Madge.”

She was irritated but she couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“ _Okay.”_ he said, just as irritated. _“If you say so.”_

“I have to go.” she declared. “I told Peeta I would look at some tapes with him.”

“ _Have fun with Mellark then.”_ Gale answered, almost mocking.

“I _do_ have fun with him.” she retorted. “He’s nice.”

 _“Well, good for you then.”_ he snapped. _“I’ve got to go too. I have to help Posy with her homework.”_

They said goodnight a little more harshly than usual and hung up.

She joined Peeta in the third living-room and dropped on the couch next to him. He was already watching videos of their competitions, taking notes about the other couples’ strengths and weaknesses.

“Everything’s alright?” he asked.

“Family is difficult.” she replied, gritting her teeth.

She didn’t know if it was their newly – painfully – acquired intimacy but Peeta wisely let the matter rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The routine mentioned in this chapter is inspired by Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peyzerat's performance at the 99 World Championships Gala. You can find it on You Tube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HucZ_g0iz-s  
> I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know!


	9. Chapter 9

Effie couldn’t help the smile on her lips as she watched the children play in the front yard. It was Haymitch who had sent the first snowball naturally but she had ducked out of the fight quickly and he had soon surrendered too. Katniss and Peeta were too formidable a team to be tackled on his own.

She leaned against the balcony’s wooden banister, mentally reviewing what was left to do before their departure. Time flew when you spent your days training. They were due in Omaha in less than a week for Nationals and she longed to see the children skate but she also dreaded what would come around it. She had never been on the other side of the fence before, happy to let Mags play manager for her. Now it would fall on Haymitch and her to find sponsors, to arrange appointments with the press and to take care of the general escorting that went with being responsible for young people. Her notepad was full of To-do lists and she hoped it would be enough.

She heard the glass door sliding open behind her but she didn’t move.

“You’re going to catch a cold.” Haymitch grumbled. A hand came to rest on her waist as two mugs were placed on the wooden banister. Two seconds later, he shed his jacket and dropped it on her shoulders. The hand, she couldn’t help but notice, returned to her waist, safely tucked under the jacket. He was standing half behind her in an odd sort of hug and she wondered if they were sentenced to dance this weird dance for the rest of their lives. Distance wasn’t something they were good at.

She reached for the pink mug, wrapping her hands around it to warm them up, happy to smell her favorite strawberry tea flavor.

“The cat’s out of the bag.” he told her, his thumb rubbing soothing circle over her hip. “ _Fire and Ice_ ’s surprise comeback is all the sports news are talking about.”

“I know.” she hummed. “I planned it with Caesar. It was time.”

“Could have said.” he snorted. “So much for being a team.”

“I told you I had arranged interviews.” she sighed. “I also told you sponsors chasing would be unavoidable. It means publicity and you know as well as I do we are their best selling point right now. Let the interest rise, once they compete it will be all about them. They won’t even remember who we are.”

“You’re in charge of sponsors.” he declared, reaching for his mug and bringing it to his lips. She smelt green tea – probably spiked. He was doing better with alcohol deprivation than she had thought he would despite the sometimes quivering hands and slightly yellow tinge of his skin but he hadn’t completely given up yet. “I’ll stand next to you and look pretty.”

“That was always your best role.” she teased, glancing up at him over her shoulder.

“You bet it was, sweetheart.” he snorted. His hand slid from her hip to her stomach and the hug became a little firmer, less accidental past reflex and more purposeful.

“Were we right to give them the afternoon off, do you think?” she asked, nodding to the children still tossing snowballs in the yard. “We are so close to the competition now…”

“They’re ready.” he  shrugged. “And they need to unwind.”

It was all very true. Katniss and Peeta had made progress. They weren’t as attuned to each other as Effie would have liked but it would have to do for now. They were beautiful together. They had charisma, fantastic legwork and the costumes would be splendid. Cinna had done an astounding job on the _Girl On Fire_ theme.

There was a loud shriek as Peeta grabbed Katniss around the waist and tossed her in a heap of snow. She almost called out for them to be careful – they didn’t need a broken limb _now_ of all time – but Haymitch, probably sensing her upcoming intervention, drew her closer to him, propping his chin on her shoulder. It wouldn’t have taken much for her to turn her head and bring their lips together.

The urge was growing more pressing with every new day.

“He’s in love with her.” he said.

“I know.” She leaned back against his chest “She isn’t. She is so much like you I wonder if she’s your secret love child sometimes…”

“That was never our problem.” he scowled.

“I am unsure what our problem was, you are refusing to explain yourself.” she hissed and then shook her head. “Mother called four times already, I declined the calls. I have a feeling she will be at Nationals. Brace yourself.”

“Just like old times.” he snorted.

She hummed in agreement and then sipped her tea in silence, enjoying the feeling of his arm around her and his chest against her back more than she probably should have. For a moment she enjoyed the fantasy that their lives had gone into a very different direction, that the young people goofing around in the garden were theirs and that cuddling on the balcony was a regular thing. She breathed out a deep sigh without meaning too.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

 _You_ , she wanted to answer, _always you_.

“I have been looking at a few possible competitions.” she offered instead in a cheerful voice. “Whether we win or not at Nationals, there will be some time before the World Championships and I was thinking… There is a world-wide competition in Paris in a month.”

“Paris.” he repeated warily. “You want to go back to Paris.”

“The contest seems interesting. I know for a fact Mags is taking Finnick and Johanna.” she declared. “It would be a good learning opportunity for…”

“Do you want to go back to Paris or _do you want to go back to Paris_?” he cut her off. It was impossible not to understand the subtext. Their whole relationship was all in subtext. 

“I want _the children_ to compete in Paris.” she countered. “It has nothing to do with us.”

“Paris has everything to do with us.” he chuckled.

She remained silent for a second. Her mug was empty and she placed it back on the banister.

“Will Paris vanish again?” she murmured.

“I’m pretty sure if a city that big had disappeared from the surface of the Earth someone would have noticed, Princess.” he deadpanned.

“Haymitch.” she growled. “ _Will_ Paris vanish again?”

He put his mug down and wrapped his second arm around her. She placed her hands on his and closed her eyes.

“I’m sure Paris doesn’t _plan_ on vanishing.” he said. “But Paris isn’t what it used to be. Paris is old and drunk and probably not worth it anymore. _Never_ was worth it really.” She practically heard him roll his eyes. “Can we drop the metaphor already?”

“I loved Paris.” she whispered and since he insisted on speaking plainly she clarified “I loved you.”

“I’m sure Paris loved you back.” he taunted. “French people were heads over heels for you if I remember well.”

She turned around in his arms, meeting his eyes. “Must you always talk in riddles?”

“You already know the answer, sweetheart.” he shrugged.

“Do I?” she huffed. “Because I am not sure of anything anymore.”

He leaned in. Their lips brushed together, sending the familiar thrill through her body. She tilted her head to the right and stretched her neck, chasing after his retreating mouth. He placed a kiss on her jaw, their eyes meeting briefly before he leaned in again. She parted her lips, ready for one of those deep kisses that always left her breathless…

… and startled when the shrill ringing of her phone blared out.

She licked her lips and escaped his arms to grab her phone from the lounge chair where she had dropped it.

“Mother.” she announced, rejecting the call.

“Still cockblocking us fifteen years later.” he chuckled darkly. “Must be some sort of sixth sense.”

She chuckled too, a little nervously, but didn’t look at him. “Perhaps it is for the best. We should focus on the children.”

“Maybe.” he admitted. She didn’t know if she was disappointed or not by his quick acceptance. “Let’s go back inside, sweetheart, there are other ways to unwind. I bet I can still kick your ass at pool.”

“Language.” she chided him, lifting her eyebrows. “And you _never_ bested me at pool.”

“First time for everything.” he smirked.

“Well, you know I can never back down from a challenge.” she grinned.

°o°

_The bar was shady and it was the last place one would have expected to find Effie Trinket. She was so out of place in her electric blue dress, high heels and fancy braided hairdo that it was a source of endless amusement to Haymitch._

_Nationals were only a week away and she had whined and complained when he had gotten the afternoon and following morning off from Mags but they had been training for six months, they were as ready as they would ever going to be, and his former hockey team was playing in Aspen. He hadn’t wanted to pass on an opportunity to see Chaff._

_She had pouted and pouted so he had rolled his eyes and told her she could come if she was so unable to relax by herself. He had regretted the invitation as soon as it had been out of his mouth mainly because it had taken too long for her to get ready and when she had appeared at the top of the stairs in that figure hugging dress, he had told her they were going to a hockey match not the opera._ Fashion _, she had retorted, knew no venues – which was a lot of bullshit in his opinion to say she wanted to play dress up._

_She had never been to a hockey match before and had been completely lost the whole time, appalled by the violence of the sport and she had eventually looped her arms around his and had declared she was glad he was out of that field._

_His former teammates’ welcome hadn’t been warm but it hadn’t been as cold as he had expected it to be. They had lost their star player when he had been banned and their general scores for the season had suffered. Effie had gone a long way in smoothing ruffled feathers. She was outgoing, chatty, friendly and so very much a natural charmer that she had had everyone eating in her hand in ten minutes flat. She was now playing pool – or crushing everyone at pool rather – and it made for a nice view._

_From time to time, guys approached her but, every time, she answered them with a bright smile, nodding at the bar where he was sitting, the guy would size him and Chaff up and move along. He figured she was telling them she wasn’t there alone. He kind of liked it._

_He had dreaded the evening a little but now he was perfectly relaxed, enjoying the low rock and roll background music and the tepid virgin cocktail in his hand. The bartender had looked at him funny when he had placed his order but one week away from Nationals he wouldn’t risk falling back on his demons._

_“You stare at her any longer she’s going to self-combust.” Chaff mocked._

_He startled a little, jerked out of less than innocent thoughts. How was he supposed to keep a clear mind when she was bending over that pool table to take a shot every five minutes and flashing him smiles over her shoulder. She was a tease. A complete tease._

_Three months of random sex hadn’t put the desire out of him yet. He usually grew bore a lot more quickly but there was something about her, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint… Or maybe they were just very gifted at it. Falling in bed together had been an epiphany as far as their skating went. Mags could barely contain her glee nowadays. She had wanted a connection and there certainly was one now. On the ice or between sheets, they moved as one and sparks flew._

_“Just checking she doesn’t get in trouble.” he muttered defensively. “She’s more used to four stars restaurants than places like this.”_

_Chaff brought his beer to his lips, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement, absolutely not fooled. “I’ll be honest, buddy, I thought you would bail out of this after two days. I’m glad it worked out. You’re better. You’re more_ you _than I’ve seen you be in a while.”_

_“It’s not so bad.” he shrugged. “Costumes suck. I’ve drawn a line at frills. They want me out there, no frills, no pink.”_

_“Good rule.” Chaff chuckled before nodding to his ridiculous red cocktail. “No liquor too?”_

_“I’ve been keeping away from that.” he replied. “Not as hard as I thought it would be.” His eyes fell on Effie again and his face softened despite himself. She was good at distracting him when his demons haunted him so badly he needed an external source of relief. She was good at making his mind go blank and making him laugh. She was good at a lot of things. He snorted. “Can’t drink anyway. Trinket would have my balls on a plate.”_

_“Don’t think that’s where she likes them best.” his friend joked._

_Haymitch tossed him a mild glare without really knowing why, just annoyed that he made that sort of comments about her. “Careful.”_

_Chaff lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture, managing to keep a straight face despite his laughing eyes. “Didn’t mean to insult your girl.”_

_“Not my girl.” he grumbled. “Just my partner.”_

_“If that’s what you want to call it.” Chaff taunted, taking another sip of his beer._

_“It’s not like that.” he insisted._

_“Sure, it’s not.” his best friend laughed. “You’re taking her out, you’re keeping her purse for her, you’re staring at her like you want to marry her and give her half a dozen babies, you smile every time she looks at you, but, sure, it’s not like that.”_

_He rolled his eyes. “You’re crazy.”_

_“Sure, I am.” Chaff mocked. “So you don’t mind if I make a pass at her, then? ‘Cause she’s hot, your partner. Got an ass to damn a saint. If you’re not tipping that…”_

_“I said_ careful _.” he growled, downing his glass. It didn’t brought him the relief a glass of whiskey would have. “You do what you want but you treat her right or you get my fist in your face, got it?”_

_His best friend laughed again, patting his shoulder. “Calm down, buddy, I’m just having you on. Won’t try to steal your girl away. She wouldn’t even look at me anyway, she’s too busy watching you like she’s starved and you’re a juicy bone.”_

_He glanced at the pool table to find her done with her match. She stared at him as she slid the couple of notes she had won inside the bodice of her dress and it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen her do – so_ vulgar _for someone like her. He licked his lips and she grinned that slow perverse little grin she always gave him before taking him in his mouth. He kind of got lost in the moment._

_Chaff burst out laughing again._

_“Nothing’s happening at all.” his friend humored him. “You’re not having eye sex with her in a crowded room at all_ _and you’re not tight in your pants. At all.”_

_“Shut up.” he grumbled._

_She sauntered closer, absolutely aware, he was sure, of the effect she was having on him. “Gentlemen, who shall I crush at pool next?”_

_“No, thanks, love.” Chaff chuckled. “I’ve seen what you can do. Now, Haymitch… I think he really wants to…_ play with you. _”_

_He glared at his friend but hopped from the stool and followed her anyway. When she gave him those sort of  looks, there were very few places he wouldn’t have followed her to._

_“You’re having fun, sweetheart?” he asked, grabbing one of the sticks._

_“I will have more fun once I have beaten you at pool.” she challenged, just as Bon Jovi blared out of the speakers._

_“_ Darling, you give love a bad name.” _he snorted. “Could be your theme song.”_

_The way she handled that stick should have been outlawed and she did it on purpose. He wondered what her mother would have to say if she could have seen her daughter. Gone was the well-mannered lady, there was a temptress in her place. She was a minx._

_She hummed along to the song absentmindedly as she took her shot. “_ You’re a loaded gun _…” She flashed him a smile, brushing against him to walk around the table to find a better angle. “I don’t think_ I _am the loaded gun here…”_

_“Just wait for it.” he warned, itching to grab her around the waist and kiss her. He didn’t know exactly what was holding him back. They had no explicit rules. They just had… a thing that wasn’t public._

_He was so distracted by the way she moved and the flash of cleavage he could glimpse every time she bent in two to take a shot he completely forgot to focus on the game._

_“From here, it looked like she squashed you, buddy.” Chaff commented when they came back._

_“Take her up at pool and then we’ll talk.” he snorted. “Could always be a professional pool player if skating doesn’t work your way, sweetheart.”_

_Effie accepted the compliment with a smile, looping her arms around one of his and leaning against his side. She was very tactile and he didn’t really mind. They spent their day touching each other during training, it was second nature by now._

_They found a booth and they lingered in the bar a while longer. She took great joy in getting embarrassing stories about him out of Chaff and they spent a while trying to hook his friend up with a brunette that had caught his eyes. She was a better wing man than Haymitch was._

_Eventually, her head fell against his shoulder and he suggested they called it a night, knowing there was quite a drive back to the house. He watched her hug Chaff and he had a moment of realization._

_She was there to stay._

_He had treated the whole figure skating experience as something with a beginning and an end. All they had been talking about was Nationals. What would happen after that was left to a sort of limbo. Yes, they had talked about Olympic dreams and so on, but it was just talk, no definite plans._

_Partnerships often went on for years._

_Chaff shot him a knowing look before hugging him goodbye. “She’s good for you. Don’t screw this up.”_

_As they made their way out of the bar and to the car, he wondered what he had signed for. Then her hand slipped into his and he stopped wondering. He wasn’t really the hand holding type of guys but, then again, they did it all the time on the ice. It was almost a reflex to reach for her hand now. It fitted so well in his own it wasn’t even funny – how cliché as it sounded._

_He usually grumbled and ranted about the fancy cars with drivers Elindra insisted everyone in the house use – the Trinkets had standards, she liked to say – but right now he was glad for it. The back of the cars were always spacious and the tainted separation glass allowed them complete privacy._

_“I had fun tonight.” she declared, once the car got into gear. “Thank you for taking me with you.”_

_“Night’s not over yet.” he smirked, dropping on his knee in front of her, forcing her to spread her legs._

_“Haymitch.” she hissed, shooting an anxious look at the separation glass._

_“He won’t see anything.” he whispered, pressing kisses against her inner thighs._

_“But he will hear.” she argued._

_“We’ll have to be real quiet then. I know that’s hard for you.” he challenged. “Can you do quiet, Princess?” She narrowed her eyes at him but her irritated pout turned into a moan when he pressed his mouth between her legs. He chuckled but drew back sadly. “Maybe not.”_

_She bit on her bottom lip and tangled her fingers in his hair, nudging his head back down. “We will see who will be the quietest, won’t we? Just_ wait _your turn…”_

_The prospect of the delicious torture to come made him creative._

_If the look the driver shot him when he opened the car door one hour and a half later was to be believed, the glass might have been tainted but not soundproof and they hadn’t been as discreet as they should have been._

_It was probably a good thing Effie had fallen asleep half an hour earlier. He wasn’t sure she would have reacted well to that knowledge._

_He carried her to her room in the silent house without waking her, took off her heels, took his shirt and pants off and climbed into bed with her._

_He told himself he was too tired to go wandering in the gigantic house at night._

_He told himself it had nothing to do with liking the way she felt in his arms._

°o°

Peeta found Katniss in the living-room they tended to use as a HQ of sort when watching tapes or competition videos. She had changed into dried clothes and was nursing a mug of hot chocolate between her hands, curled up on the couch. She was wearing a white woolen sweater at least two sizes too big, brown leggings and red flannel socks, her long hair was pulled up in a braid crown around her head, she had not a trace of make-up on her face – she never did really – and when she looked up at him, he was struck by how beautiful she was.

It was the breath-taking sort of beautiful.  

“Did you find them?” she asked.

He shook his head to clear his head and flashed her a smile, dropping on the couch next to her and grabbing the second steaming mug that had been left on the coffee table. “Yes, they’re playing pool.”

Playing pool, calling each other cheaters, arguing, chuckling and very much flirting. It was either cute or awkward, Peeta wasn’t sure but he would have liked them to decide what they wanted to do because Katniss might be oblivious but _he_ was not and it was embarrassing to witness.

“Playing pool?” she frowned. “What are they playing pool for? Did they see the news?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Haymitch says not to worry.”

Which was, admittedly, not an easy thing to do when all internet sites specialized in figure skating and some of the sports channels were flashing their pictures and speculating on _who_ could have convinced Haymitch Abernathy _and_ Effie Trinket to come out of retirement – and hiding – and not only that but to do it _together_.

“Some of the fan sites are going crazy.” Katniss told him, tossing her phone at him. He opened the internet browser to find the sites in question still open. It seemed Haymitch and Effie’s fanbase had arisen from the ashes. _Fire and Ice, back together?_ one of them titled followed by a lot of _OMG!!!!!!_ and _Do you think they’re back_ TOGETHER _TOGETHER?_.

There were a lot of pictures from their youth, on the ice and outside of it. Some were clearly stolen, they were walking in the street, sunglasses on their noses, Haymitch had his arm around her shoulders, they were looking at each other, clearly in conversation – probably bickering if experience served right – half smiling despite their obvious irritation, and it looked less friendly than couple-y. It was still weird to see them so young.

He read a few entries on a few different blogs and looked up at Katniss with a small smile. “People _really_ want to know if they were a couple or not. I bet they have a ship name on _tumblr_ and everything…”

“A what on what?” she frowned.

“On…” he started to explain and then shrugged. “Never mind. It’s a social media.”

“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not into that.”

“Yes, I know.” he smiled, looking back at the screen to scroll down a little further. Before he could switch sites, a text message popped up.

**_Gale_ ** _: So you’re a superstar now._

He cleared his throat and handed her the phone. “Gale sent you a message.”

She reached out and checked it out but didn’t type anything. She locked the screen and put her phone down on the coffee table instead. Odd. She usually answered him right away.

They had had fun earlier but now she looked sullen again.

“Everything’s alright at home?” he asked, a little cautious.

For a second, he thought she would shut him out but she had been better at _communicating_ since Haymitch and Effie tortured them into spilling their darkest secrets. She simply shrugged, taking a sip of her chocolate and very much hiding behind her mug.

 “I miss my sister.” she admitted. “I haven’t seen her in weeks and _skype_ ’s not the same thing.”

He sipped his chocolate too, trying not to read too much into it when she finished hers, placed the mug down and slid down the couch to place her legs on his lap without thinking twice about it. Touching had become second nature at some point during their training. And yet it felt more casual for her than it was for him.

“Why are people so obsessed with them being together or not?” she asked. “It has nothing to do with their skating.”

“I don’t know.” he shrugged. “People are always interested in famous people’s private life… Isn’t that the point of reality TV?”

He handed her the mug to hold while he leaned in to grab the computer he had abandoned on the coffee table the day before and switched it on, balancing it on her shins before taking back his mug.

“But we’re athletes not trash TV stars.” she argued.

“It’s never _just_ about sports, is it?” he hummed, distracted as he typed with one hand. “Sponsors go for famous athletes and famous athletes’ private lives are always discussed, you either roll with it or… I don’t know. You don’t get as much attention. If we do well at Nationals, we will get attention too. You should get ready for it.”

“I hate it.” she declared, wrinkling her nose. “You can handle that part.”

He shot her an amused look and placed his now empty cup on the floor. It took a while but through fansite to fansite, he managed to unearth a press conference from 1998. “That’s from the World Championships. That’s the time they did _Carmina Burana_ right?”

“That’s the time they won their second World champions title.” she nodded.

He angled the screen so she could see too and pressed play. The quality wasn’t great.

 _“Enobaria, how do you feel about the upcoming World Championships in Minneapolis?”_ a journalist asked.

The four skaters were sitting next to each other at a long table, proudly wearing their US jacket, framed by their coaches.

“That’s Mags Cohen.” Katniss pointed out at the old woman sitting next to Haymitch. “She must be _ancient_ by now.”

Which meant nothing given the results Odair and Mason always got everywhere they competed.

 _“Eager to crush the competition.”_ Enobaria answered, flashing a dangerous smile.

There were some nervous chuckles. Her partner rolled his eyes good naturally and nudged her but Enobaria didn’t seem to see what the problem was. Haymitch slumped in his chair, his arm coming to rest on the back of Effie’s chair. She hissed something at him too low for the mic to catch but Peeta would have bet she had just told him to sit properly. Whatever it was, he simply smirked and slouched further.

 _“The Careers versus Fire and Ice… How are things in the US team? Is there a sense of competition or are you all friendly?”_  another journalist asked.

“Well, that’s a stupid question.” Katniss scoffed.

 _“We are all very good friends.”_ Effie replied with a smile.

 _“Yeah, it really feels like a great family.”_ Haymitch added, clearly mocking. _“One where you should watch out for the knife about to stab you in the back.”_

“ _Haymitch is joking, of course.”_ Effie cut in. _“Excuse him, he thinks he is a funny man but we all know it is lucky he didn’t become a comedian.”_

 _“I don’t know, he’s got a point.”_ Enobaria sneered.

 _“We have two groups. The cynical ones and the optimistic ones.”_ Brutus chuckled. _“Maybe we should switch. I should take Effie and Enobaria can partner with Haymitch. What do you say, Abernathy?”_

Haymitch’s smirk hardened and he did sit straighter then, his arm not moving from the back of her chair. It looked like a claim of sort to Peeta. _“I say she’s the best figure skater in the world right now and she’s mine, so I’m going to keep her. No offense.”_

Effie shook her head at him but a small smile was playing on her lips. 

 _“Haymitch, are you ever going to address the rumors about your relationship with Effie?”_ someone asked in the crowd of journalists.

Haymitch and Effie exchanged a long look and then he shrugged. “ _We addressed them plenty of times. We’re friends.”_

“Are they doing it on purpose?” Peeta asked, not really expecting an answer. The worst thing was he didn’t think they _were_ doing it on purpose. They were the same right now and they were certainly _not_ doing it on purpose. Sometimes they looked at each other and it was like they were shutting out everything else.

 _“Aren’t you living together?”_ the journalist insisted.

 _“For practice purposes only.”_ Effie deflected.

 _“You don’t practice three hundred and sixty five days a year though…”_ Enobaria smirked.

 _“Perhaps_ you _don’t.”_ Effie flashed a bright innocent smile. _“And perhaps that is why we are the current World Champions.”_

Haymitch chuckled, clearly amused. By the looks the coaches exchanged over their skaters, _they_ weren’t.

 _“For now.”_ Enobaria declared with a dangerous grin.

 _“We are undefeated.”_ Effie insisted.

 _“For now.”_ Enobaria repeated.

 _“Does that answer the question about how friendly everyone is?”_ Haymitch mocked.

There was a new question directed at Enobaria and Brutus’ trainer and Haymitch leaned in to whisper something in Effie’s ear. She gave him her usual _look_ but was clearly fighting a smile.

The video stopped right after that.

“It’s odd to see them so young.” Katniss said.

Peeta nodded at that, scrolling through the comments. There were a lot of fans gushing over the “best skater in the world” statement, others were clearly interpreting the “she’s mine” as a proof of a romantic relationship, a few people were obsessing over the whispering at the end, and then there were a couple of them out there saying their body language was _everything_. He had always known fans could be extreme – he may or may not have a _tumblr_ for art sharing purposes only and he may or may not have stumbled upon fandom drama more than once – but he had no idea that it extended to people who had long passed the teenage years phase.

“It does make you wonder though, doesn’t it?” he hummed, closing the blog window to check his mailbox. He opened Delly’s mail and snorted at the stupid selfie of her covered in flour she had sent him with the caption _come back, I need you to do the baking for me_.

“Who’s that?” Katniss asked. He thought he detected a touch of annoyance in her voice and he lifted his eyebrows in surprise.  

“Delly.” he answered. “I told you about her. We practically grew up together. She’s like a sister.” He added the last part as an afterthought but Katniss seemed to relax a little. He typed a quick reply absentmindedly. “Anyway… You think they were together? They do have this vibe… It’s like a Bogart movie but in real life.”

“A _what_ now?” she frowned.

“Bogart? _Humphrey_ Bogart? _To Have And Have Not? Casablanca? The Maltese Falcon?_ ” he clarified and when no spark of recognition lighted up in her eyes, he shook his head. “That’s it, we’re having a movie night.”

She laughed.

Aside for that afternoon snowball fight, he could count on one hand the number of times he had made her laugh.

“You’re a secret nerd, aren’t you?” she chuckled.

“Is it a good time to mention I’m addicted to MasterChef and I like to bake?” he grinned before looking down at his screen, already looking up streaming links for the movies.

“Baking is nice.” she declared. “I like anything with chocolate in it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You got some cute today! Next week we go to Nationals! Did you like this chapter? Let me know!


	10. Chapter 10

The _CenturyLink Center Omaha_ was huge and it didn’t help anyone feel less nervous.

“Now, remember, children.” Effie drilled into their head for what must have been the thousandth time since the previous night. “Whatever happens, whatever people say to you, remain courteous at _all_ costs. This is a big, big, _big_ day and I won’t have it spoiled by rude behavior.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Haymitch grumbled, grabbing her arm to cut her off. “Play nice. They get it, sweetheart. Stop fretting like a mother hen.” While she was busy pursing her lips at him, the kids exchanged a look behind her back. He winked at them. “Go change. Then warm up. We’ll meet you on the rink.” Effie looked as if she wanted to follow them right up to the locker rooms so he tugged her by the arm, following the indications leading to the place _they_ were supposed to go. “They’ll be fine. Stop babying them.”

“Well, they are the only babies I will ever have, so I think I am entitled to a bit of fussing.” she snapped.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re thirty-seven, stop being a drama queen.”

“Why, are you volunteering for the job, then, Haymitch?” she hissed. “Are you going to give me a child before I am dry and unfertile?”

He blinked and stared at her. “How did we go from you panicking about the kids competing to having kids of our own?”

“We did not. You are just being insensitive. As usual.” she retorted, digging her nails in his arm. “Now, _hurry_. I don’t want to be late.”

“The rumors _were_ true then.” a familiar voice boomed behind them. “Fire and Ice, back on the rink.”

They turned around and faced Brutus, a little uncertain. The rivalry between the two couples had never reached the levels of the one Effie had jealously kept with Viola and Seneca but they had never really been friends either. Brutus didn’t seem to mind though but, then again, Brutus had always been a simple man. He shook Haymitch’s hand with a grip still so strong after all those years Haymitch thought he would break his fingers and hugged Effie – a lot more gently he couldn’t help but notice.

“It’s good to see you.” Brutus told Effie, sounding genuine. “Competitions and galas weren’t the same without you, you know.”

“My, my… Look what the cat dragged in.” Enobaria drawled out, coming out from around the corner.

“Be nice, kid.” Brutus chided her.

It had always amused Haymitch to no end how paternal Brutus was with his partner. He had almost ten years on her though.

“I’ll be nice. Just like old times.” the woman grinned flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. “I will enjoy it greatly when our kids crush yours.”

“We shall see, shall we?” Effie retorted. “If you will excuse us. Brutus, it was nice to see you again.”

“It’s already seen.” Enobaria insisted. “There are only two spots on the World Championships team. It’s a no brainer one goes to Mags’ kids but the second is ours. Maybe yours can play joker.”

“It sure worked out for us before.” Haymitch sneered. “Not so much for you.”

“Do not engage, Haymitch.” Effie chided him. “Let’s go.”

There were already quite a few people in the stadium. People from the federation as well as trainers, skaters on the ice, and assistants running around. It was all so familiar and yet so _strange_ to be back into that frenzy…

“Effie! Haymitch!” a cheerful voice boomed over the surrounding cacophony.

The few photographers and journalists who had been authorized to be present for warm ups immediately turned to them, snapping pictures and whispering. They had the decency not to jump on them just yet but Haymitch was sure they wouldn’t leave that stadium without answering enough questions to make their heads spin.

Plutarch Heavensbee didn’t seem disturbed by the stares following him, he walked closer, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture and dropped them fast faced with their two identical glares.

“Why, Plutarch, how nice to see you…” Effie offered in a polite _pissed-off_ tone. “I have called you quite a few times…”

Plutarch laughed good-naturally. “I thought I would give you a chance to cool off. And I see it worked out for the best anyway…” He looked positively gleeful to see the both of them together. “You are giving us _very_ good publicity. Interest for the competition has risen since you’ve been announced as coaches. I am _very_ happy.”

“Good for you.” Haymitch growled.

“Good for _the federation_.” he corrected. “Good for _the art_.” He nodded at Effie. “I still have a lot to do if you will excuse me but you should know I got a text from your mother. Elindra is planning on attending.”

“Yes, I expected it.” Effie sighed.

“It will be fine.” Haymitch told her, placing a hand at the small of her back.

She flashed him a small grateful smile but he took his hand away quickly, aware of the pictures still being taken without their consent.

Plutarch’s smile softened. “I am happy this worked out. I will confess I wasn’t sure how either of you would react but when Katniss and Peeta called me… The two of you separating always felt like a shame to me. I am a romantic at heart.”

“Romantic at heart, my ass.” Haymitch muttered once he was out of earshot. “His heart is a wallet.”

“I suppose that is why he is such good _friends_ with my mother.” she agreed under her breath.

Katniss and Peeta had come out of the locker rooms and were standing next to the rink, skates resting next to their feet. They were stretching up, sometimes exchanging a few words. He nudged Effie and pointed at them but before they could take a step in that direction, someone grabbed her from behind. She shrieked as she was lifted from the ground but soon laughed when her assaulter pressed a kiss on her cheek – useless to say the journalists _loved_ that.

“ _You_ are a _traitor_.” the kid declared, once he had put her down. “I’ve been begging you to come work on our team for _years_ , you _swear_ you’re done with competitions and the second I turn my back you find yourself another boyfriend.”

The boy – young man – seized him up and Haymitch narrowed his eyes. Sea-green eyes, white teeth, training outfit and skates on his feet, golden hair… Too pretty for his own good but too young to be a threat – not that Haymitch could really claim her as his.

“Sorry, boy. I was there first.” he snorted. “If anyone’s the _other_ boyfriend, that’s you.”

“Finnick Odair.” The kid outstretched a hand that Haymitch shook. “Can I say I’m a _huge_ fan?”

“You can _say_ it.” he smirked. “Doesn’t mean I will… _Ouch_.”

The strike had come from behind, absolutely unwarranted, and he turned around, glaring and ready to cut someone a new one, only to find himself faced with a tiny woman with wispy white hair and an annoyed look on her face – and who was using her walking stick as a weapon.

“Mags.” he greeted softly, slightly nervous. It would have been a lie to say he hadn’t been apprehensive about this dive in the past.  He hadn’t kept in touch at all, he hadn’t even called when she had had her stroke. She was diminished, that was plain to see. She didn’t have the same authoritative bearing he remembered, she was smaller, more fragile. But when the walking stick hit him in the leg for the second time, he decided she wasn’t as weak as she looked. “What’s that for?”

“Disappearing on me.” she answered in a raspy voice he had trouble catching. “Now hug me, you stupid boy.”

It had been a very long time since he had been called a _boy_. He hugged her carefully, feeling his body completely relax in her accepting warm embrace. In the almost three years she had trained him, they had gotten close. She had become a substitute mother figure and he loved Mags, had kept loving her even in his self-imposed isolation.

When he let her go, she opened her arms to Effie who readily gave the requested hug. And all the while Finnick stood there, grinning like a proud puppy.

“What’s your deal?” Haymitch asked, amused despite himself.

“You have _no idea_ how many tapes of you and Effie Mags made us watch.” the boy laughed. “ _No idea_. She says you two are the best she ever coached. I feel like I’m in front of a mythical creature.”

Haymitch chuckled, touching Effie’s arm to get her attention. “He’s a charmer, right?”

“Very much so.” Effie grinned, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. “And shouldn’t you be on the rink? Johanna is getting impatient and I would rather not have her marching down on me just yet.”

Haymitch followed her eyes to the young woman with a pixy cut glowering at them from afar.

Finnick rolled his eyes but the smile never left his lips. “Yes, mom.”

Effie narrowed her eyes at him but they were twinkling in amusement. “Cheeky boy.”

Haymitch almost expected the young man to make a face at her but he simply placed his hand on Mags’ shoulder before going back on the ice.

“And you were saying you didn’t have kids…” he teased.

“Finnick and Johanna think I fret on them too much and act like an overprotective mother.” Effie explained with a fond shake of her head. “Which is ridiculous.”

“They don’t have mothers.” Mags cut in slowly. It was obvious her speech abilities had been impeded by the stroke. “You are good for them. I still hope you will take them on when I retire.”

“They have _you_ and you will never retire.” she argued.

Mags looked at her with a patient gaze. “They must be exceptional those children of yours. I have been asking you to work with me for a long time, Effie.”

Guilt immediately flashed on her face. “I know and I apologize. It had nothing to do with you or Finnick and Johanna… It was a spur of the moment decision, honestly… I didn’t plan…”

“Don’t worry, girl, I am not angry.” Mags smiled gently, her eyes darting from one of them to the other. “I am happy to see you together again.”

“Yeah, the whole world is happy about that.” Haymitch snorted. “Just wait ‘till the dragon shows up.”

“Don’t start before she is even here.” Effie sighed. “Why don’t you go check on the children?”

He knew when he was being dismissed so he left them to their conversation.

°O°

_“Whatever you do, please, behave.” Mags told them. “Our reputation is on the line. You keep that bad temper of yours in check, boy. And you, girl…” Their trainer looked at them and sighed. “Try to make him behave.”_

_Effie nodded as Haymitch sulked, grumbling under his breath about how he wasn’t the one who always snapped and bitched and  how unfair it was he was always the one getting scolded by Mags._

_“Will you stop?” she hissed as their trainer left them to talk to federation officials. “Stretch. It will be our turn to warm up soon.”_

_They were in the second group allowed to use the rink and, already, a few other couples were stretching, watching what was happening on the ice like hawks. Effie felt nervous like rarely ever before on a competition day. It would be their first time competing together, Haymitch’s first real time on the ice and_ everyone _was waiting for them to fail._

_They were a joke, that much had been made clear. The injured girl who never knew when to quit and the drunk hockey player._

_Even now, other skaters were pointing at them and laughing behind their hands, probably thinking themselves discreet. They seemed to forget she had two national titles and one bronze World medal to boost. Seneca wasn’t responsible for_ everything _._

_“Don’t mind them.” Haymitch told her. “Let them laugh. We’ll laugh when we win.”_

_“Today will be easy.” she answered, stretching her arms over her head and letting her head roll to warm her neck. “It is tomorrow that will be tricky.”_

_They knew the short program by heart even though Haymitch didn’t quite like the waltz aspect of it. They excelled at it. The difficulty level wasn’t that high. The free program now… It was quick and precise and it asked a lot of out them._

_“How’s the knee?” he asked, lowering his voice._

_“Well enough.” she replied in the same tone._

_Enobaria and Brutus passed them by without a look or a hello for her who had been competing alongside them for years. It was simply rude. But then again, nobody was really paying her any attention aside for the taunts and gibes._

_And when Seneca and Viola emerged from the locker rooms,_ they _were greeted with the respect one should always show to fellow skaters – except for Enobaria who snarled at them, always eager to crush the competition. As far as betting boards went, Enobaria and Brutus were the clear favorites and the only real danger to their national title would be Seneca and Viola._

_Effie was decided to create the surprise._

_She ignored them, focusing on Haymitch and the challenge ahead instead. “Do you want to try the Eagle here before we go on the ice? That’s the only risk factor in our short program I am anxious about…”_

_“If you mean_ the Goose _then, sure, sweetheart.” he teased. “Hop on.”_

 _She had barely placed her socked clad foot against his hip when she felt_ him _coming closer. It was something only former partners could share. She slowly placed her foot back down and turned to face Seneca._

_“Hello.” he said, uncertain, looking from her to Haymitch who stood right behind her. She didn’t need to look to know he was glowering with a threatening expression. “I didn’t want to believe it when I heard you would be competing…”_

_“I promised you I would be, did I not?” she retorted._

_“You did.” Seneca granted with a small smile. “But… The doctors… How are you? Your knee?”_

_“I am right as rain, thank you for asking.” she declared, jutting her chin up in the air. “I am ready to win”_

“That _will never happen in a thousand years.” Viola cut in, not so subtly wrapping her arms around Seneca’s torso and propping her chin on his shoulder. “You_ are _going through with this, then? You are committed to toss your already limited career down the drain? You do realize it is sad to be remembered as the girl who stopped skating after an injury but it is even sadder to be remembered as the girl who brought a hockey player to a figure skating competition?”_

_“The bitch’s your replacement, right?” Haymitch sneered, placing a hand on her hip._

_“I would use the term_ improvement _, rather.” Viola replied with a wicked grin. “I was just what Seneca needed to get his career to the upper level, something he would never have been able to do with dear Euphemia. Why, we might even win an Olympic title next year.”_

_“Not if we win it first.” he snorted._

_“Don’t waste your breath on Viola Summercket.” Effie advised him. “She is not worth it.”_

_She tugged on his arm, intending to drag him further away to practice in peace. Haymitch resisted for a second and then nodded at her, lowering a pitying look on Seneca. “You’re a jerk for what you did to her and you’re a moron for letting her go.”_

_She supposed his defending her was touching but it annoyed her a little because she could hold her own. Still, it_ was _touching and instead of tugging on his arm, she took his hand. He squeezed it and let her steer him away._

 _“Is it thrilling to sleep with a murderer, Euphemia?” Viola laughed at her back,_ too loud _._

_Haymitch’s past had arisen in the various press articles and interviews that had surrounded Effie’s return to competitions, it wasn’t a secret. But for it to be tossed at him like that…_

_Haymitch froze and Effie kept expecting him to turn back and attack Viola – and given the stares and the whispers, so did most of the people present there – but then his shoulders relaxed and he took a step forward. It was their locked hands that held him back because Effie was rooted to the spot. They stared at each other for a moment and she was sure he was about to tell her to let it go._

_It so happened that she didn’t_ want _to let it go._

_Instead, she dropped his hand, turned on her heels and marched on Viola so abruptly the other skaters stepped back and Seneca swiftly planted himself between the two of them._

_“Don’t do anything stupid.” Seneca warned her. “You’ll be disqualified.”_

_“Sweetheart, it’s fine.” Haymitch called behind her._

_Effie raised on tiptoes, pointing an accusing finger at Viola over Seneca’s shoulder. “Insult my partner again and you will regret it.”_

_“Okay, break it off.” Enobaria stepped in, pushing Effie back without any gentleness. “You’ve got a problem with her, you settle it on the ice.” The woman tossed Viola a sneer. “We all know she would never have been able to beat you before your injury anyway. Give me someone worth fighting for out there, Trinket, I like a challenge. And you…” She glared at Viola. “Don’t kick somebody when they’re down. Your mother didn’t teach you that?”_

_Effie huffed but Haymitch’s arm wrapped around her waist and forced her to walk away before it could get worse._

_“And Mags says_ I _’m the troublemaker…” he snorted in her ear. “That was kind of hot, though, sweetheart… Who knew you could catfight…”_

 _“She shouldn’t have attacked you.” Effie hissed. “Oh, I_ do _hate her!”_

_“We’ll make her pay later.” he promised. “We’ll beat her and your stupid ex-boyfriend.”_

_There was a touch of possessiveness in his voice as he tossed a glare at Seneca over his shoulder. It made her smile. “Are you jealous?”_

_“Hardly.” he scoffed. “He’s bad in bed.”_

_“I never_ actually _said that.” she chuckled, shaking her head at his foolish antics. “You inferred.”_

_He lifted an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you saying he’s better than me?”_

_Usually, she would have joked that off because she stood by the idea that a lady shouldn’t kiss and tell, but right then she was annoyed with Seneca for choosing Viola over her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, mindful of their audience, and whispered in his ear. “Not even close.”_

_Men were peacocks._

_Haymitch strode around for the rest of the day and when it was time to compete, they were_ perfect _. Nobody had been expecting them to rank in the first ten. They ranked first, beating Viola and Seneca by a point – she didn’t even glance at them as they performed, staring at her red painted nails instead – and remained in the lead until Enobaria and Brutus performed and snatched the first place._

_She had wanted to create the surprise and she had succeeded. Nobody was talking about her injury or how finished she was anymore. It was all about how amazing it was Haymitch had been able to convert to figure skating so fast and how powerful they were together._

_She didn’t know where the_ Fire and Ice _nickname came from but it stuck._

_Everyone was waiting for their free program._

_Expectations were often hard to meet._

°O°

Warming up in the midst of so many other people was weird and Katniss was nervous. Her eyes kept shifting to the other pairs skating by or talking, nodding at whatever their coaches were telling them, practicing a lift or a jump…

“Relax.” Peeta said gently, grabbing her hand to pull her into position.

They didn’t go far into their routine before Katniss found her path blocked by a young woman with a pixy cut, watching her with her hands on her hips.

 _Johanna Mason_. There was a part of her who wanted to gape because even though they weren’t so far in age, Katniss had followed her and her partner’s progress for the last seasons with diligence and almost admiration. Mason was _great_. Mason was an _Olympic Champion_. Another part of her, the biggest part, was just pissed off someone had deliberately placed themselves in her path and she scowled at the interruption. “What do you want?”

“Katniss.” Peeta winced.

“Oh, look at that, Finnick, she’s got _spur_.” Johanna sneered.

Her partner skated backwards to them from the edge of the rink where he had been talking with a young woman with flowing brown hair and a federation pass around her neck – it took Katniss a few seconds to identify Annie Cresta, a former single skater who had retired after only one season of competing although she did win a silver World medal – and circled around them like a shark ready to pounce on smaller fishes. Peeta edged closer to her, almost protectively – that irritated her to no end.

“You must be pretty talented to get _Effie Trinket_ out of her cave.” Finnick Odair commented, a teasing smile on his lips. “You look a little white, Katniss. Nerves?”

“If she faints, I’m going to laugh at Trinket until next year.” Jo warned.

“She’s not going to faint.” Finnick argued. “She’s just nervous. First big competition, right? You just stick with us, kids. We’ll show you the ropes. Sugar cube?”

He actually fished a sugar cube out of the pocket of his training pants and offered it to them. 

Katniss and Peeta exchanged a look.

“Kids.” Haymitch called out from the edge of the rink, his eyes darting from Katniss and Peeta to Finnick and Johanna. “Play nice. _All of you_.”

Effie wasn’t far behind him, talking with Mags Cohen, and both the women were throwing them severe looks. Katniss rolled her eyes.

“It was bad enough with Trinket playing universal mom, _he_ ’s going to play dad now?” Johanna scoffed at her partner.

“Fire and Ice.” Finnick grinned at Johanna, his eyes twinkling. “ _Fire and Ice._ Right here. Together. And they’re going to _see us skate_.”

It was Johanna’s turn to roll her eyes. “You really need to get that hero worship thing into check. And it’s _them_ they’re coming to watch, not _us_.” She nodded at the two of them. “Trinket couldn’t be bothered to train _us_ , remember? Not worth it.”

“Come on, she never said that…” Finnick argued, shaking his head.

Katniss grabbed Peeta’s hand and steered him away. They didn’t have time to lose in pointless discussions.

At the other end of the rink, Enobaria and Brutus were giving strict instructions to Cato and Clove. Cato lifted her high above his head and Katniss felt her stomach drop. They would be hard to beat.

“It will be fine.” Peeta promised. “We’re ready.”

Warm-ups passed too quickly. They were soon asked to leave the rink and Effie spent the whole time fretting to the point Katniss thought she would _explode_. She fussed over their costumes, she forced them to zip up their jackets so they wouldn’t catch a cold, she kept adding pins to Katniss’ braided bun… Haymitch had disappeared and Katniss perfectly understood why because Effie was _unbearable_. She just hoped their trainer wasn’t getting drunk somewhere – it had been a while since he had gotten wasted but Katniss had vivid memories of just how nasty he was when drunk and with the press everywhere desperate to get a comment from either him or Effie…

“Remember…” Effie insisted, covering Peeta’s hair with hairspray to the point he started coughing. Around them other teams were looking at them in equal part curiosity and annoyance. “Whatever happens, there is only one rule.”

“Protect the girl.” Peeta said, gently snatching the can of hairspray from her hand. “I know.”

“No.” Effie frowned. “Well, _yes,_ but first rule of competitions is: chin _up,_ eyes _bright_ , smiles _on_. Whatever happens.”

“We’ll be fine.” Katniss heard herself promise despite the nervous nausea she couldn’t quite chase away.

“Oh, I know you will, my darlings…” Effie beamed. “You are absolutely ready. _Perfect_.” Her eyes caught something over their shoulders and her smile softened. “And here is a surprise for you, dear…”

Their trainer gently turned Katniss around by the shoulders. She barely had time to brace herself before the fifteen years old jumped on her.

“Surprise!” her sister exclaimed.

If Katniss had been the sort of girls to _shriek_ she would have. She hugged her sister close, burying her face in her blond hair and breathing in her familiar perfume. It smelt so much like _home_ … She hadn’t realized how homesick she was. Tears burned her eyes but she swallowed them back. She had missed Prim. She had missed Prim _so much_. They laughed as they hugged and when Katniss eventually stepped back, her eyes fell on someone she hadn’t noticed before.

Gale was standing next to Haymitch, his hands deep in his pockets, a crooked smile on his lips. He took one hand of his pocket to give her a lazy wave. “Hey, Catnip.”

She hugged her best friend too, feeling almost overwhelmed. She looked at Haymitch, almost ready to hug him too in gratitude. “You did this?”

Haymitch shook his head and wordlessly nodded to her partner. Peeta gave her a sheepish smile and a shrug. “Effie did everything. I just had the idea. You were missing them so…”

She tossed her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek, it landed at the corner of his mouth but it wasn’t what she had intended. Gale suddenly looked down at his feet and she thanked Effie before it could become awkward.

“We’re staying the night so we can see the long program tomorrow.” Prim informed her. “Mom sends her love, she’s sorry she couldn’t come, and I have something for you from Madge.”

“Madge.” she frowned. Why would Madge send her anything?

“Turns out she’s a big fan of yours.” Gale explained with a fond smile that annoyed her. 

“Oh, you should have said, dear…” Effie lamented. “I would have had her come too… Any friends of Katniss are more than welcome.”

Gale shrugged. “Next time maybe.”

Katniss was distracted by the pin Prim took out of her battered purse. It was round and golden, a bird was trapped in it.

“For luck.” her sister said, pinning it on her dress carefully.

Katniss covered it with her hand and gave her sister a nod.

A voice announced the competition was about to begin.

“We better go sit, Prim.” Gale suggested. “We’ll see you after. Skate true, Katniss.”

Katniss watched them go, smiling when she realized the back of Prim’s shirt wasn’t properly tucked in her skirt. It looked like her sister had a tail. _Little duck_ , she thought with fondness.

Katniss was about to burst with nerves. They watched the first few contestants but none of them ranked high. Not as high as World Championships contestants had to rank anyway.

Cato and Clove were the first serious opponents to go on the rink.

“Cheesy choice of song.” Effie muttered, behind them.

“Maybe they’re going for the love story angle.” Haymitch snorted.

Cato and Clove were good and Katniss bit nervously on her nail until Effie slapped her hand away with a severe look. Unfortunately for them, Clove put a hand down after her triple loops and after that they were out of synch. Katniss could see Enobaria and Brutus exchanging displeased looks.

They still had the higher notes of the evening and ranked first for now.

“It’s almost your turn.” Haymitch said. “You’re good?”

“We’ll be fine.” Peeta said, echoing her earlier words.

They shed their jackets and shared nervous smiles.

“Remember.” Effie whispered. “Chins up, eyes bright, smiles on. _Do_ enjoy yourself out there.”

“We’ll make you proud.” Peeta promised, flashing their trainers a smile.

“Oh, darling, you already do.” Effie replied, brushing a hand against his cheek.

Haymitch shook his head. “ _I swear_ you are like a mother sending her kids to war.”

Effie pursed her lips at him. “May the odds be ever in your favor, children.”

“Any last advice?” Peeta asked Haymitch.

Haymitch smirked, his eyes darting to Mags who was nearby, giving last minutes instruction to Finnick and Johanna. “Stay alive.”

“Very funny.” Katniss deadpanned.

At the signal, they launched themselves on the ice, making the traditional tour to greet the crowd at the announcement of their names, her red dress caught the light just as Cinna had promised. She looked on fire. She met Peeta at the center of the rink and they positioned themselves for the beginning of the routine.

“Don’t think.” he whispered to her just as the music started.

They hit every jump, they nailed every lift, and they were on point to the beat. The crowd went wild.

She felt such a sense of euphoria when they finished that she surprised herself by jumping into Haymitch’s arms as soon as they left the rink. She didn’t know which one of them was the most surprised truthfully.

“Good job, sweetheart.” he whispered in her ear.

The notes reflected that and they took the lead of the competition, leaving Cato and Clove a few points behind. Enobaria and Brutus were glowering, Haymitch and Effie were beaming.

Finnick and Johanna closed the competition and Katniss had to admit it was something to watch them skate. They were beautiful and they made no mistake. The crowd chanted their name as they sat in the booth to get their notes.

Katniss was probably not supposed to hear but Effie touched Johanna’s arm as she passed her by. “Is your ankle bothering you?”  

Johanna shrugged her hand off with a sneer. “ _Fuck_ _off_ , Trinket.”

It was no surprise when Finnick and Johanna ranked first, defeating Peeta and Katniss by a small margin.

The next day and the free program would decide everything but Katniss would have been happy with the second place. Second still meant access to the World Championships and probably some sponsoring offers.

As it was, they were assaulted by journalists and she simply didn’t know how to handle that. She let Peeta place an arm around her shoulders and deflect questions with humor, burrowing into his side to better hide from the cameras, while Effie took care of the actual PR.

She didn’t realize how misleading her behavior could look like and even if she had it probably wouldn’t have mattered.

She wasn’t Katniss Everdeen anymore.

She was _The Girl on Fire._

They had just become a social phenomenon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some news first! You may have seen on the tumblr tag there is now a playlist to go with this story so check it out and its awesome edit made by 100years-to-live aaand there is now a collection of short stories focused on young hayffie (titled As Time Goes By) so you might want to check that out too if you're not afraid of fluff.
> 
> Katniss and Peeta's Girl on Fire program was inspired by Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's Tango Romantica performance. I linked it in the tumblr post and you can find it on YT it's from the 2010 Winter Olympics.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you think! Next time... There will be a dragon ;)


	11. Chapter 11

The two knocks on her hotel room door weren’t exactly unexpected, Effie hadn’t dared think she would be left alone that evening. She had managed to avoid her mother after the competition but if Elindra was determined she would come and seek her out all the way to her hotel room.

She opened the door with pursed lip and a serious frown on her face only for it to morph into surprise after all.

“Haymitch.” she said.

He lifted his eyebrows with an amused smirk. “Expecting another man to knock on your door so late at night, sweetheart?” He lifted a bottle of champagne and two flutes. “I thought we could celebrate.” She eyed the champagne with disapproval but he sighed before she could say anything. “Cut me some slack I only had two sips today. And I just had one glass yesterday. I’m getting there.”

“So you thought to celebrate your newfound near sobriety by drinking champagne.” she retorted, stepping aside to let him in. “Yes, I do see the logic here.”

“You’re a funny woman.” he deadpanned, walking inside her suite and making himself at home on the couch without asking. Then again, propriety never was his thing. “You’ll need to do the opening. My hands are…” He let his sentence trail off and shrugged, opening and closing his fists a few times. The quivers in his fingers were the results of his cutting down on the liquor and even though she knew he hated this new weakness in his hands, she couldn’t say she was sorry. Not if it meant sparing his liver.

“One flute.” she bargained, grabbing the bottle to open it. “It is too soon to celebrate anyway. You _know_ everything hangs on the free program.”   

“But today went well.” he argued, waving that off with his hand. “Reason enough to celebrate. Come sit with me, sweetheart.”

The look he was giving her was heated with lust and she was suddenly reminded of how, exactly, they used to blow steam at the end of a competition.

“Are you certain you are not drunk?” she huffed. The cork popped and she hastily poured the champagne in a flute. She barely filled half of it before handing it to  him.

“Not really generous tonight, Princess.” he complained.

“Take it or leave it.” she declared, filling her own flute and sitting next to him on the couch. “It _did_ go well, did it not? The children were...” 

“ _Fa-bu-lous_.” he finished for her, imitating her accent.

She pursed her lips. “You are certainly in a good mood tonight.”

“Why not?” he snorted. “Sure the no liquor rule blows but the kids were great, we’ve got a real shot at the World Championships, and you’ve never been hotter… You’re rocking the sexy secretary look.”

She was aiming more at _responsible_ _classy_ _trainer_ but trust Haymitch to turn everything into a dirty fantasy. The grey high waist pencil skirt, the pale blue blouse, the heels and the pearl necklace were professional. She _refused_ to publicly appear in a training suit if there was no reason for her to do so. She had always been adamant about that. The beautiful costumes had always been something she loved about skating… She liked to be pretty.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she retorted, lifting a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“I want you.” he said plainly.

She licked her lips and abruptly averted her eyes, taking a sip of champagne to hide her inner turmoil. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen it coming. She had seen it coming since she had first met his eyes in Richmond two months earlier. They were who they were. They had never been good at resisting that attraction they felt and fifteen years had clearly not been enough to erode that. She wanted him too. Even after everything. But…

“I…” she hesitated, not sure what she wanted to say. She would have been happy to let the status quo drag on for a little longer. “Haymitch…”

“Yeah, I kind of guessed you wouldn’t be thrilled by that.” he chucked bitterly. “Had to say it anyway.”

“It is not that I don’t share the sentiment.” she sighed. “You _do_ understand, don’t you? I just…” She drew out another sigh, frustrated at her inability to find the right words.

“You don’t trust me anymore.” he said, always so gifted at reading her.

“I need time.” she whispered. “Sex is all well and good but you know like I do I will never be able to keep myself from getting involved and…”

He brushed his fingers against her cheek, interrupting her. Her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes, leaning into his hand instinctively. Her body felt treacherous and she was irritated by that. Her body reacted like it belonged to him, like he had branded it so deeply in her youth it would _always_ be _his_.

“Effie… When I say I want you, I mean _I want you_.” he mumbled awkwardly. “Not just sex… _Everything_. Everything we had, I want it back.”

“Then you shouldn’t have abandoned it.” she snapped before she could stop herself. She took a deep breath and grabbed his wrist. Their hands fell in the space between them and she slipped hers in his, not wanting to reject him completely… “You left me behind. You left me in Japan.”

He hadn’t even attended the Closing Ceremony, leaving her to make excuses for him. He had left after the Gala Exhibition.

“I know.” he sighed, letting his head fall against the back of the couch. “ _Fuck_ , if I know…” 

“And you still won’t say why?” she insisted.

“What would it change now?” he scowled. “What’s done is done.”

“Yes.” she hissed. “What’s done is done so perhaps we should leave the past in the past.”

She untangled their hands and placed her flute back on the coffee table before walking to the window. The view wasn’t great but the city by night was a better sight than Haymitch sitting on the couch at the moment. She folded her arms in front of her chest.

“What was Mags talking about earlier?” he asked. “She asked you to work with her?”

She should have expected the change of topic. He had never been good at dealing with awkward or emotional situations. Deflection had always been his answer.

“She offered several times for me to collaborate with her.” she answered. “After her stroke… She was in such a state, I almost did, just to relieve her. She was adamant she didn’t want to quit training. How could she? It is all her life… Finnick and Johanna really wanted me on their team. Well… Finnick did. Johanna is difficult. She and Katniss will either be best friends or archenemies if not both.”

“Why didn’t you do it?” he insisted, ignoring her attempt at steering the conversation in another direction. “The promising kids hunting thing… That’s a waste of your talents, sweetheart.”

“So everybody keeps saying.” she muttered. “What did _you_ do all this time?”

She heard him shrug but she didn’t turn around to check. “Nothing much. Invested my savings. The house was mine. Didn’t need much to get by.” He placed his flute down on the coffee table and hauled himself off the couch. She closed her eyes. “Doesn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you take Mags up on that deal? Seems right down your alley… Bossing people around. You enjoy yourself telling Katniss and Peeta what to do, telling _me_ what to do…”

She waited until he placed his hands on her shoulders to breathe out, instinctively leaning against his chest, wishing she wasn’t such a coward. She didn’t know what the brave thing would be: pushing him away or tugging him closer? But either way she was trapped in this limbo of indecision.

“Why hadn’t you skated since 1998?” she whispered. “There was _no point_ without you.”

He let out a long breath, propping his chin on her shoulder. The familiar itch of his stubble against her skin made her want to cry. So did his smell. It was almost too painful.

“I’ve _fucked_ you up.” he mumbled. “But if it makes you feel better… It _fucked_ me up too. Leaving you.”

“It shouldn’t but it does.” she admitted. “Was there someone else? Is that why you don’t want to tell me…”

“There was never anyone else.” he cut her off. “ _Never_. After you… Yeah, there were women, sweetheart, I’m not a monk, but there was never anyone like you. Nobody can be such a pain in the ass…”

She turned her head a little so her forehead would be against his cheek. “I never fell in love again.”

“I just wanted you to be everything you wanted.” he sighed. “I wanted you _happy_.”

“Without you?” she scowled. “You said our dreams didn’t match. What did you mean by that?”

“I meant…” he started and was interrupted by a firm knock on the door. He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess…”

“It could be the children.” she suggested. Deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be. She escaped his arms and took a deep breath before opening the door, not surprised at all to find Elindra standing right behind it. “Mother.”

Elindra was wearing a haute couture white suit that must have cost a fortune. Effie noted she had had a new facelift job done while she was in Europe.

“Euphemia.” her mother greeted her, leaning in to kiss the air next to her cheek. She invited herself in only to freeze when she noticed Haymitch still standing next to the window. “Of course. I should have known.”

“I would say it’s nice to see you but Effie says lying is bad manners or some _shit_.” he sneered.

“Haymitch, don’t.” Effie warned.

“Charming as ever, I see.” Elindra commented, looking at him up and down. “Why, years weren’t kind with you. Perhaps you won’t turn my daughter’s head so easily this time.” Before he could answer and it could become ugly, she turned to face Effie, rudely showing Haymitch her back. “Is your phone broken, Euphemia?”

“We haven’t spoken in five years, Mother. I didn’t see why you suddenly took an interest.” Effie retorted, jutting her chin in the air a little.

“Your manners always slip when that man is near… I raised you better than this.” Elindra hissed. “And here I came to say I was glad you had finally come to your senses and chosen to do something worthwhile with your life.”  

“Why, _thank you_.” she deadpanned.

Irony had never been her mother’s _forte_. “You are welcome.”

Haymitch scoffed and rolled his eyes. Effie fought a smile.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Mother?” she asked. “I do not mean to be rude but, as you can see, I was otherwise engaged.”

Her mother pursed her lips in disapproval at that dismissal and thus elected to ignore it. “Those children are promising. You did well with them.”

The compliment took her aback and she softened a little. “Thank you, Mother. It means a lot coming from you.”

Elindra waved that off. “I just wished you had chosen to coach them _alone_. Your name won’t hurt their building reputation but the hockey player’s…”

“My name’s still _Haymitch_ if anyone cares.” Haymitch scorned. “It was never _hockey player_.”

He went ignored as her mother continued her speech. “Assuming they qualify, I would be agreeable to taking them on.”

There was a long silence. Effie automatically glanced at Haymitch, lost. “I beg your pardon, Mother, but I am unsure of what you mean. _Taking them on_. If you are offering to sponsor us…”

“I mean _train_ them, Euphemia, do no play coy.” Elindra cut her off. “Naturally I would keep you as an assistant. The hockey player shall go back to wherever he lives with a nice check for his trouble.”

What was it with her mother and wanting to _pay_ Haymitch to get out of her life? She shook her head, more flabbergasted by the offer than she should have been.

“Train them.” she repeated, stunned. “You _don’t_ train, Mother. You refused to train _me_.” And that had been when she had still been partnering with _Seneca_ who had always been _promising_ according to Elindra.

“I dislike wasting my time as you well know. I always swore I would only train young people with champions potential.” her mother declared.

It was like a slap in the face. She had always known Elindra didn’t believe in her but that had never been quite as openly worded before.

She laughed.

What else was there to do?

She laughed until her sight blurred with tears – of hysteria or sorrow from that part of her that would _always_ crave her mother’s approval, she didn’t know.

She laughed until she felt Haymitch’s hands on her shoulders once more. She could feel his anger radiating from him in waves. If Elindra had been a man, she had no doubt he would have punched her already.

“Some things never change. You’re still a _bitch_.” he snarled. “You can _go fuck yourself_. You won’t train our kids. You don’t even get to _look_ at our kids.”

“ _Yours_?” Elindra mocked. “This is a business arrangement, you train them and in exchange they gain you money. You are not _adopting_ them. Please, Euphemia, tell me you were not stupid enough to get attached. Those are _not_ substitute children for you to dote upon, they need to be _chiseled_. Is that what you have been doing in Aspen? Have you been _playing house_ with _that_ _man_? Playing pretend like _a child_? I thought you had learned your lesson on that account. Do _not_ come crying to me when he leaves you heartbroken again.”

“When did I _ever_ come crying to _you_?” she laughed. “I believe we are done here, Mother. I will relay your offer to Katniss and Peeta but I think I can safely say they won’t be interested by it. As for me, I have no wish to play your _assistant_. Your ego is too heavy for me to lift.”

Haymitch chuckled behind her, his thumbs drawing soothing circles at the base of her nape. “Good girl.”

Elindra shook her head at her daughter. “You have become foolish with age. _He_ made you foolish.”

“ _He_ has a name and you will use it if you wish to discuss him.” Effie growled.

“I have no wish to discuss him.” her mother snapped. “The very idea of him irks me. His influence on you was disastrous. He…”

“He _freed_ me.” she interrupted. “He freed me from a hopeless quest for your approval. He freed me from caring about your nasty remarks and constant disappointment. He freed me from _you_.” She sighed. “We had this conversation so many times I lost count, Mother. I _do_ wish you would stop.”

“And I do wish you would come back to reason.” Elindra scowled. “Call me when you realize I can actually train those children better than you ever could. It would be a waste of talent to leave them to the both of you.”

Her mother had a flare for dramatic exits. Effie closed the door behind her with relief. “She never disappoints, does she?”

“She’s grown worse.” Haymitch grumbled, walking around the couch to grab her still full flute of champagne. He downed it. “You don’t buy her _bullshit_ , right?”

“No.” she sighed. “I just wish she didn’t have to spoil the evening.”

“She always had a wrenched sense of timing.” he agreed. “It’s late. Should go to bed.”

“Yes, I suppose we should.” she hummed, watching him. “Will we ever finish this conversation?”

“Maybe.” he smirked but it was a little wistful. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he walked past her on his way to the door. “I’ll win you back, sweetheart.”

That was a promise she could live with.

°O°

_The thrusts were lazy and yet it was enough for her to arch her back, a tiny whimper escaping her throat as he dropped kisses to her chest. It was early still, the bed was warm and they weren’t completely awake. It was the best way to start the day in her opinion._

_“What’s that smile for?” he hummed against her skin, sucking the soft flesh of her neck between his teeth._

_“We are World Champions.” she whispered._

_It was a thrill to say it out loud. Even a week after they victory, even if they were exhausted from all the interviews, photoshoots, official parties and red-eye flights… It was still a thrill. They were the 1997 pair figure skating World Champions and nobody could ever take that away from them._

_It was the first morning back in Aspen and it felt like they were slowly coming back to Earth. They would have to get up to go jogging soon if they didn’t want Mags to come and get them._

_He chuckled, hooking an arm around her leg to hit another angle, his other hand ghosting up her side before finding her breast. “You_ do _know how to boost a guy’s ego, don’t you, Princess?”_

_She bit on her bottom lip to swallow back a moan, grinning all the while like a maniac. “We are World Champions. Don’t act as if it doesn’t turn you on.”_

_He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a sharp knocking sound on her bedroom door. The handle rattled right after and they froze only to sigh in relief when the door didn’t bulge – she didn’t know which of them had remembered to lock it the previous night but she was grateful for it._

_“Euphemia, why is your door locked?” her mother’s shrill voice asked._

_Haymitch rolled his eyes and went back to lazily thrusting into her, making it hard for her to focus._

_“Euphemia! Open this door.” Elindra ordered._

_“I hate that woman.” he grumbled in her neck._

_“I can’t!” she called back, trying hard to keep her voice steady._

_“And why is that?” her mother asked. “It is absolutely improper to make your mother talk to a closed door.”_

_“I am naked.” she answered. It was the first thing that shot through her head and, granted, it wasn’t the smartest. Haymitch tossed her an incredulous look, clearly amused. She locked the leg he wasn’t holding around his hips, trying to keep him still, but it only resulted in deeper movements of his hips that had her digging her nails in his shoulder blades._

_“Why on Earth are you naked?” Elindra asked, almost horrified. “What are you doing?”_

_“Question is…_ Who _are you doing…” he snorted in her neck. His next thrust made her whimper and there was_ no way _her mother hadn’t heard that._

_“Stop it.” she hissed._

_“You think that’s easy?” he scoffed. “There’s no_ pause _button, sweetheart.”_

_“Euphemia!” her mother insisted, rattling the handle again. “I_ demand _to know what you are doing.”_

_“Waxing.” she replied._

_“Nice recovery.” he mocked in her ear._

_“Don’t you go to a salon for that?” Elindra sounded taken aback._

_“Yes.” Effie lied. “But I didn’t have time in a while now and… I will be downstairs in a few minutes.”_

_“I do not have time to wait. I am due at the airport.” her mother snapped. “Cover yourself and open this door.”_

_She looked at Haymitch and he made a face. “No way.”_

_“Go to the bathroom.” she whispered, pushing him off her. “I won’t be long, I promise.”_

_“People_ die _from blue balls, you know.” he grumbled, getting out of bed. “It’s_ a thing _.”_

_“No, it’s not.” she argued, pushing him toward the bathroom and climbing off her bed to wrap herself in her pink silk dressing gown. Her eyes surveyed the room, her suitcase had been abandoned open in the middle of the room, the white armchair next to the stone fireplace in the corner was covered with Haymitch’s clothes – because he couldn’t be tidy if his life depended on it – she hastily tossed everything in her suitcase and nudged it shut. More impatient knocks on the door again and she sighed in irritation, hurrying to open the window because she was certain her room smelt like sex. “I’m coming!”_

_“Lucky you.” Haymitch muttered._

_She pressed a kiss to his lips and pushed him back in the en-suite bathroom before shutting the door in his face._ Then _and then only did she unlock the door. She made an effort to try and block her mother’s path but Elindra was determined to step in, it seemed. Her blue eyes toured the room much like Effie’s had done, stopping first on the open window and then on the unmade bed._

_There was a wet spot on the red sheets and Effie quickly pulled back the comforter. “I spilled some wax.”_

_The fact that there was no wax or used bands was just as incriminating as the flush on her cheeks._

_The sliding doors to her dressing room were open and she glimpsed her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Her hair was in complete disarray, her eyes were too bright, there were reddish spots on her throat and collarbone from when he had nibble on her skin, her robe was loose and she looked like she had been thoroughly debauched._

_“If he went through that window, I hope he had the good taste of breaking his neck.” Elindra snorted._

_Effie turned crimson and adjusted the belt of her robe. “I do not know what you mean, Mother.”_

_Elindra let out an irritated huff. “Euphemia, the season will be over before you know it now. Mags will be leaving for the coast to see her family as usual. I expect you will take the first month of summer off for a holidays too?”_

_“I… Yes.” she answered, not having expected that line of questioning._

_The World Championships had marked an end to the competition season but there were still galas and shows where they had agreed to perform. It wouldn’t be time to think about holidays for a good three months still. She really wanted a trip in the sun this year. She was thinking Malibu. Or maybe somewhere a little less fashionable where she and Haymitch could be left alone in peace… A month together with no interruption seemed like heaven – assuming they didn’t strangle each other after ten minutes, that was. In any case, they hadn’t discussed it yet. Was it pushing it to even think they would go on holidays together when they had spent more than a year joined at the hip? They were…_ together _, that had been established but… Did that mean he wanted to spend his free time far from Aspen with her?_

_“Very well. That is good. You can use the time to reconnect with Seneca.” Elindra declared. “I will be happy to gift you two with a trip wherever you wish. It will be a reward for your good performance at the World Championships.”_

_“Good performance…” she repeated flatly. “I didn’t get an A on a school test, Mother, I won the…” She frowned. “What do you mean_ reconnect _with_ Seneca _?”_

_Her mother sighed like she was being difficult and brushed imaginary dust off the sleeve of her travel jacket. “I just got off the phone with him. He would be agreeable to taking you back.”_

_Effie blinked once, twice, and then took a deep breath. “How generous of_ him _to be_ agreeable _to taking_ me _back after_ I _won a world competition_ without _him. Truly, he is the most selfless of souls.”_

_Elindra pursed her lips, clearly not amused. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Euphemia. Your hockey player has a disastrous influence on you.”_

_Haymitch had been a breath of freedom in an otherwise constrained life and she would make no apologies for how it had changed her._

_“I have no interest in Seneca.” she clarified. “I already have a partner.”_

_“You_ can’t _mean you intend to pursue this folly next season.” her mother scoffed. “This was a nice publicity stunt, I will grant you that. And he did tolerably well, better than I expected, I will_ also _grant you that. But the Olympic Games are next year and if your truly want a shot at them you will need an experienced partner.”_

_“You mean a partner who won’t stand by me whatever happens?” she hissed. “Do you know why Seneca is so willing to have me back? Because Viola is hurt. He does have a trend of jumping partners when they get injured. He is_ responsible _for her injury, Mother. He won’t find another partner anytime soon._ I _certainly won’t risk my neck when I am certain Haymitch will_ never _drop me.”_

_“He will also never be good enough to get you a gold medal at the Olympics.” Elindra hissed. “Or is that little dream of yours already forgotten? Do you know what will happen if you keep on being stubborn? You might manage to qualify for the Games on a struck of luck but you won’t win. You will try again in four years and you won’t win either because you will have missed your shot.”_

_“Haymitch and I are a formidable team.” she retorted, walking to the window to close it. She slammed it shut without meaning too._

_“You will never achieve your dreams with that boy.” her mother warned. “Be sensible. We will be generous with him. A five numbers check should soften the break-up. I will go up to six if you insist.”_

_She almost laughed. “You don’t know Haymitch very well, Mother. He won’t take your money.”_

_“Oh, so you think he will pick you over a fortune…” Elindra chuckled. “How_ naive _of you, darling. Let me impart some wisdom on you… He is a_ thug _. He doesn’t belong in our world, Seneca does.”_

_“Seneca will never_ ever _put a finger on me again. I do not trust him. I do not love him.” she replied. “And, frankly, he is a rather boring man.”_

_Compared to Haymitch, all the men she was used to were boring. Haymitch always surprised her – not always in a good way but that was beside the point._

_“Of course, he is. Men of our standing often are.” Elindra agreed easily with a wave of her rings clad hand. “That is why we invented adultery, Euphemia. Allow me to speak plainly: thugs are good in a bedroom but they should always know their place.”_

_“Mother!” she gasped, utterly shocked._

_“I have no doubt your hockey player has a nice set of particular skills no doubt honed through repeated encounters with tramps in shady bars…” her mother continued. “But do not mistake this for love. Men do not love women. They love their wealth, their beauty, and sometimes their power. He sees you and he thinks he found a rich naïve girl who is ready to give it all to him. You are nothing more than a golden goose. He does_ not _love you.”_

_She stood shock still for a moment before shaking her head._

_“Listen to reason, Euphemia.” Elindra demanded. “Seneca won’t wait forever. And if you truly do not want him then decide on another partner fast.”_

_“There is no decision to make.” she snapped. “I will stay with Haymitch.”_

_Her mother pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes in anger. “Do not come crying to me once you fail, then. Your chances of winning a gold medal were already small but with him they are slim to none.”_

_Elindra turned around and left without a goodbye even though she wouldn’t be home for two months. Effie closed the door and locked it again, resting her forehead against the wooden frame, drawing out a deep breath._

_“When she talks to you like that, I want to squeeze her neck until her head pops.”_

_The protective growl in his voice made her smile despite everything and she turned around, not surprised to find him already there, ready to hug her. He was still hard but he didn’t try to rip the gown off her to directly go back to business – something Seneca would probably have done after telling her she was being unreasonable and should listen to her mother who was not only a champion but an experienced one at that. He simply held her instead, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck._

_“Would you ever take money over me?” she whispered._

_“Do you need to ask?” he scorned. “I don’t care about your money. I don’t care about_ her _money. We make enough of that on our own now, Effie. We could leave. We’ve got sponsors… Sure, you won’t have maids or a private rink… But we could live well on what we make. I’ve got the house in Virginia… It’s old but it’s mine… We could work something out. Or we can sell it and buy something else… Whatever you want…”_

_It was tempting. Very tempting. But she knew leaving would be more complicated than that._

_She tightened her hold on his torso, looking up at him with a small smile. “I love you.”_

_The novelty of saying that aloud hadn’t faded yet and she relished it, there were power in those words and vulnerability too. It required trust. A trust she believed he would never abuse._

_She raised on tiptoe and gently pressed her mouth against his, slowly deepening the kiss until he was fisting the silk of the dressing gown. He drew back long enough to lick his lips and to shoot her an apologizing look. “I get you’re upset but with or without you I really need to finish so…”_

_“I am not upset.” she countered, nudging him in the direction of the bed. “And_ we _will finish.”_

_“Okay then, sweetheart.” he smirked. “I heard thugs like me are good for only one thing anyway…”_

_The back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he fell backwards._

_“My mother certainly does say a lot of idiotic things.” she granted, slipping off the robe to straddle his hips. “But for once she has a point.”_

_“So_ that’s _the only thing I’m good at?” he teased, knowing she didn’t mean it. “What am I? Your fuck toy?”_

_“Well, it depends… You do like to call me a goose… Am I your golden goose?” she asked, eyebrows lifted high in mocked interrogation. “Do not lie to me. I have the means to make you talk.”_

_Her little intimidation act dissolved into giggles when he grabbed her around the waist and rolled her under him._

_It was only later once they were both panting, pressed tight against each other, sweaty but fully satisfied, that he nuzzled her neck. “If golden geese were about happiness and not money… You’d be my golden goose alright. You’re certainly silly enough to play the part.”_

_She chuckled and dropped a kiss on his nose. “You have such convoluted ways of saying you love me…”_

°O°

“And I spent _hours_ looking for him and it turned out Buttercup was in the cupboard all along.” Prim finished with a dramatic sigh, running the brush in Katniss’ hair. “You’re not saying much.”

Katniss drew out a sigh of her own, turning and returning the bird pin between her fingers. There hadn’t been a lot of time to talk to Gale. They had all gone out to get dinner after the competition before coming back to the hotel but there had been no opportunity to get her best friend alone – and she wasn’t even sure _what_ she wanted to tell him anyway. Now, she and her sister were sitting on her bed, re-runs of _The Walking Dead_ providing a low background noise even though neither of them was really looking at the screen and Katniss didn’t seem able to let go of the pin.

“I don’t have much to say.” she shrugged eventually.

“Peeta is nice…” Prim hummed, gently forcing her to tilt her head to the right so she could do a fancy braid.

“Yeah.” she replied flatly. “He is.”

“Gale is nice too.” her sister insisted.

She rolled her eyes. “What are you trying to make me say?”

“I’m just saying…” Prim grinned cheekily. “They’re both nice. And good-looking.”

“When did you become so interested in guys?” she frowned.

“Well, I’m not twelve anymore. I’m _fifteen_.” the girl said, a little defensive. “I’m allowed to notice.”

It was always difficult to remember her sister wasn’t a baby anymore. Katniss suspected she would _always_ be a baby to her. “They’re too old for you.”

“But they’re not too old for _you_.” Prim pointed out, securing the fancy braid with a hair tie. “And they like you.”

“When did you become so wise?” she snorted. “I think Gale likes Madge.”

“Madge’s nice.” her sister granted. “But Peeta’s single, isn’t he? And I think Gale would break up with Madge if you just told him you like him. He’s been in love with you since _forever_. It comes down to who _you_ like, I guess.”

Katniss frowned. “He isn’t.”

Prim let out a patient sigh and a tiny shake of her head. “Oh, yes, he is. Peeta is too by the way.”

“Stop it.” she scoffed, nudging her sister. “They’re not.”

“You are blind.” Prim declared with a grin. “Utterly blind.”

“You are a brat.” Katniss retorted with a smile.

She was tackled on the bed in bear like hug. “That’s what sisters are for!”


	12. Chapter 12

“I’m going to throw up.” Katniss muttered.

“No, you’re not.” Peeta replied with a smile, skating around her. Warm-ups, she had declared earlier, were the worst part of competitions. She would rather dive directly into the fray, he had gathered. “We’re going to be fine. We’ve got this.”

“Let’s hope so.” she sighed, her eyes turning to the stands were her sister and her best friend were sitting next to the girl he suspected to be Odair’s girlfriend. She and Prim seemed to have taken a liking to each other, they had been talking since the beginning of warm-ups.

It was odd how quickly everything had shifted. Yesterday nobody knew their names and that afternoon people had been waiting in front of the center with papers and pens, asking if they could sign things for them, requesting pictures… She and Peeta had followed Haymitch’s and Effie’s lead, playing the game with smiles on their faces and multiple thanks for the fans but… It didn’t come naturally to Katniss. And it was just plain _weird_ to think they had _fans_.

Effie, at least, had seemed pleased.

“What do you make of what Effie said at breakfast?” Peeta asked. “About her mom…”

Katniss stopped looking at her sister and Cresta to turn back to him when Haymitch impatiently signaled them from the edge of the rink that they were supposed to warm up and not chat. They glided a little further away, following the path their routine would take without actually performing it.

“Her mom’s a champion.” Katniss said. “But that was ages ago. And I don’t know… She doesn’t look…”

“Nice?” Peeta suggested with a grin.

They had crossed path with Elindra Trinket when they had arrived at the stadium and the woman hadn’t even turned her eyes in their direction, gushing over Enobaria and Brutus instead. The slight to Effie was so obvious several people had started whispering.

“She looks like a bitch.” She made a face. “And we’re not leaving Haymitch and Effie anyway.”

“No, we’re not.” Peeta agreed. “We’re a team.” He shrugged, grabbing her hand to make her twirl. “Besides, Haymitch’s mostly sober those days… What is he going to do if we leave him? Go back to drinking himself into an early grave?”

“Right.” Katniss nodded. “No leaving. Do you think…”

She collided painfully with Finnick Odair. It was a good thing the young man had reflexes because she was certain if he had been anyone else they would have ended up in a heap on the floor. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders and managed to keep both of them steady on their skates.

“Katniss!” he grinned in mocked delight. “I didn’t have a chance to say you were brilliant yesterday. Jo and I better watch out.”

“Thank you.” Peeta answered before she could mumble something that wouldn’t have been polite.

She shrugged his hands off her but she didn’t miss the not so subtle way Peeta suddenly invaded her space. She rolled her eyes.

“He’s spoken for, lover boy.” Johanna Mason sneered, skidding to a stop next to them. “Both on the ice and outside of it. You can relax, he won’t steal your Girl On Fire.”

“I wasn’t…” Peeta started to defend himself only to be cut off by the unbearable young woman.

“Sure, you weren’t.” Johanna mocked with a wink, turning to Finnick. “I’m done with warming up. I’m going to change.”

“You’re okay?” Finnick asked, concern flashing on his face.

“ _Peachy_.” his partner snorted before taking off.

Sea green eyes tracked her progress to the edge of the rink and Katniss didn’t miss Effie swooping down on Johanna. Mason clearly dismissed her because Effie grabbed her arm and Jo shrugged it off brutally before storming off to the locker room.

“ _Shit_.” Finnick muttered, before turning to them. “I’ll catch you later. Good luck today.”

“Same to you.” Peeta replied more politely as Finnick hurried after his partner, pausing to exchange a few words with Effie on his way. Their trainer waved her hands wide while she talked as always when she was agitated. “What’s that about?”

“No idea.” Katniss shrugged.

And she didn’t particularly care either.

The nervousness was back.

“Hey…” he said softly, grabbing her hand to distract her from the skaters rushing past them or practicing lifts and jumps. “I promise we will be fine. Together, right?”

“Together.” she repeated in a slow sigh, squeezing his hand.

The pin of a bird on her shoulder glimmered in the spotlight.

Peeta hoped it truly was a bringer of luck. They would need it.

Cato and Clove were on a war path and Johanna and Finnick – although not as hostile – had both serious looks on their faces.

The free program would be a bloodbath.

°O°

_Haymitch wasn’t in a habit of fidgeting when he was nervous but right then he kept shuffling from one foot to the other, wishing he had hockey skates on instead of figure skating ones. The plastic protections for the blades didn’t afford a lot of balance to his broad frame but then again most figure skaters were lean._

_Free programs looked more complicated than the short ones from the day before. It was obvious people had waited_ today _to show off. He simply wasn’t sure_ they _would cut it. Their routine was long, fast and, in his opinion, dangerous. Effie never hesitated before jumping in his arms or letting him carry her high above his head anymore but it didn’t mean_ he _didn’t always have this fraction of second of terror, sure something would go wrong and she would end up with her skull split open on the ice, his death count upped to four._

_Besides, there was the figure where he placed his foot at the small of her back. It was the very same figure that had resulted in him grazing her back once and the both of them tumbling into bed together for the first time. That had been three months earlier. He had never hurt her again during practice but he was still anxious about it._

_And there was always the possibility he simply wouldn’t be able to keep up._

_The men around him had been practicing the sport their whole life. Haymitch had just been at it for six months. They needed to rank either first or second to qualify for the World Championships and although they had managed to achieve runner-up to Enobaria and Brutus the previous day, there was no guaranties they would be able to renew the deed._

_“Stop doubting yourself.” Effie chided him, sliding her hand in his and giving him a gentle squeeze. “I trust you.”_

_She looked up at him in her silver dress and the black woolen sweater she had stolen from him earlier and he found himself smiling back at her, somehow soothed by her calm demeanor. There was no hesitation in her stance, not the slightest trace of mistrust or nerves. The previous day had boosted her confidence level to the extreme._

_Summercket and Crane were the first serious opponents to take the ice. Effie hadn’t watched their short program but she studied their free one like a hawk. When they were done, she clicked her tongue once._

_“No mistake.” she said and then hurried to squeeze his hand again. “But ours is more technical and certainly more original.”_

_He wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince._

_When it was their turn to go on the rink, she hugged him tight right before they took their place. It wasn’t an unusual thing to do. Partners hugged and kissed and touched all the time right before and after their performances but they were in front of hundreds of people and it made him a little uncomfortable. Still, he hugged back, feeling like a small kid rather than a twenty-four year old man._

_And yet the moment the music started he forgot his nerves. He forgot to feel ridiculous about the most_ danced _parts of their routine, he forgot to be scared, he forgot everything that wasn’t Effie. Their eyes always found each other somehow and it was a connection so deep he could feel it tugging at something in his belly._

_It was perfect._

_He was vaguely aware of the crowd ooohing and aaaaahing with every_ wow _or_ risk _factors. She was the only thing that existed in his world. The beat picked up and they were actually enjoying themselves. Yes, the steps were difficult but speed was Haymitch’s strength and the challenge was_ fun _._

_Effie was smiling so bright it was almost blinding._

_They were maybe twenty seconds away from the end of the routine when it happened. He didn’t know how or why, he thought he tripped her, they tumbled down on the ice. They picked themselves up and went on but Effie’s smile was now strained and once they finished and saluted the crowd, it was him who reached for her this time, absolutely dismayed._

_“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t know what happened… I…”_

_“It wasn’t you.” she offered, briefly coiling a hand around his nape before stepping away, a forced smile on her lips. “My knee gave in. I tripped you._ I _am sorry.”_

_He shook his head at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they exited the rink without any hurry, slightly out of breath from their performance. “Don’t. We’ll get it next time.”_

_“Yes.” she answered, her voice strained. “Next time.”_

_Mags greeted them with a soft smile and comforting pats on their backs, insisting they had otherwise made no mistakes and they still had a shot to the podium at the very least._

_The notes weren’t as bad as Haymitch had thought they would be even though the fall cost them. They didn’t beat Crane and his partner but ranked second for now._

_They sat backstage on one of the couches as Enobaria and Brutus took their turn on the ice, watching the TV screen mounted in one corner and ignoring the other skaters sitting on various furniture or on the floor around the room. She had refused ice for her knee, not wanting to give away any weaknesses, but they were both a little too aware of Summercket cackling to Crane in the distance anyway._

_“I can’t deck her but I can punch_ him _.” he offered, his hand gently squeezing her thigh. She had borrowed his sweater again and he had to admit he sort of liked it. He had never seen the appeal of girls stealing his clothes before but there was something to seeing_ her _wear his stuff._

_“Don’t.” she sighed. “As soon as Enobaria and Brutus win, we will officially be jokers. It means we will all have to be a grand family during the World Championships. Let’s not make anything more tense than it already is.”_

_He frowned. “Thought we were out.”_

_“We are third. That make us the jokers.” she explained. “We will be going to Switzerland in case something happens to prevent one of the other pairs from competing.”_

_“So we’re_ not _out.” he said. “We’re just on the bench.”_

_“I suppose it is a way to look at things.” She leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She was disappointed, tired and, he suspected, in pain. “I am sorry. You were amazing out there. I wasn’t good enough. You deserved…”_

_“Shut up.” he growled. “You were great. It was an accident. Accidents happen.”_

_She looked up at him, propping her chin on his shoulder. “Anyone else would already be looking for another partner right now.”_

_“Anyone else’s stupid then. ‘Cause I’ve got the best there is.” he scoffed._

_A small smile played on her lips. “I like to think I have the best one too.”_

_“It’s all good then.” he smirked. “Cheer up, sweetheart, maybe one of them will break a leg and we’ll be on.”_

_Besides, there were still other competitions to attend. None as important as Nationals or the World Championships but the season wasn’t over yet. He was looking forward to the one in Paris. He had never been to Europe before._

°O°

“Damn, they _are_ good.” Effie hissed between her teeth.

“Did Miss Proper just swear?” Haymitch mocked. She shot him an annoyed glance and he wisely shut up, watching Enobaria and Brutus’ _protégés_ instead. Cato and Clove _were_ good, better than they had been the previous day but their free program was neither daring nor compelling. He nudged Mags’ shoulder. “What do you think?”

Their former coach pursed her lips and shrugged, never taking her eyes away from the screen.

Enobaria and Brutus were clearly more pleased that day than they had been the previous one. The notes reflected that. Enobaria sneered as they passed them by to escort her kids backstage. “Good luck beating that.”

“So much for spirit of fair-play.” he muttered to Effie.

Effie ignored that, choosing to fuss over the children instead. Katniss looked white as a sheet and she was clinging to Peeta’s hand so hard Haymitch was scared she would break it. He let Effie make the usual recommendations – _smile_ , _look happy, if you fall pick yourself up and go on_ – before he stepped in.

“This is a character piece, yeah?” he told them. “Try to remember that. You’re both fighting for freedom. You’re lovers trapped in a revolution. _Express it_. We’re clear?” 

“You suck so much at motivation speeches…” Katniss hissed, taking off her skate protections and forcing them in his hands before joining Peeta in the waiting area.

“I heard no _language_ from you.” he scorned at Effie. “What’s wrong? You’re broken?”

Effie pursed her lips, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “Well, she _does_ have a point.”

“Sassy.” he accused.

“Always, darling.” she taunted with a grin.

If they hadn’t been standing in a stadium full of people and if he hadn’t been certain some cameras were trained at them, he would have kissed her.

Katniss’ black dress caught the light and Haymitch took a deep breath, nervous for the kids and hoping they would remember how to work together. The idea for the piece was his but Effie had done most of the technical arrangements. Technique alone wouldn’t cut it though. It needed to be _lived_.

“They will be _fabulous_.” Effie declared, grabbing his arm with her hands and very much digging her nails in his flesh.

The music started and Haymitch held his breath for the whole piece.

The audience clearly liked what they saw. They were standing, clapping and cheering by the time Katniss and Peeta finished and the children looked a little overwhelmed. Unsurprisingly, Peeta recovered first and took a bow, smiling and waving at the crowd, urging Katniss to do the same.

They met them at the edge of the rink. Effie was chatting happily, telling them about what a good job they had done, how proud of them she was, forcing a jacket on Katniss’ shoulders and hugging both of them so tight he was sure they would suffocate.

“Okay, okay…” he smirked, gently steering her away from the kids. “Don’t strangle them yet. We’ve still got the scores to do.”

“Good job.” Odair offered as they passed by on their way to the booth.

By some sort of miracle, Katniss managed a small smile. “Thank you. Good luck.”

“See, I knew I could get you to like me, Girl on Fire.” the young man teased.

“Focus on your performance.” Haymitch grumbled, swiftly stepping in between Katniss and the kid.

“Now who is playing mother hen?” Effie mocked in a low voice as they took their places in the booth. “Finnick is very committed to his relationship. He doesn’t have any romantic interest in Katniss.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” he grumbled.

“Is it?” she retorted, lifting an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what _you_ used to say?”

“Different.” he frowned.

“How?” she challenged.

“It was you.” he shrugged.

Katniss grabbed his arm and urged him to sit next to her before Effie could reply. The judges were about to give their notes. To no one’s surprise they ranked first, leaving Cato and Clove _far_ behind. The only ones who had a chance at beating them now were Mason and Odair – it was _expected_ Mason and Odair would beat them.

“I told Mags I would watch with her.” Effie told him, as he was about to usher the kids backstage to leave people around the rink more room. It was crowded out there.

“Go with her.” Peeta offered. “We’ll be fine.”

He didn’t argue with that, curious to see Mags’ kids’ performance firsthand instead of on a screen. Besides, the old woman seemed happy for the company. She couldn’t speak loud enough to cover the noise in the stadium for last advices but that didn’t seem to disturb her skaters. Mason had a fierce look on her face as if she was about to step in an arena rather than on a rink.

Their routine was about madness and it was interesting. Not as powerful as what Katniss and Peeta had done but it was different from what they had seen so far that day.

After thirty seconds, he started to notice the strain on Mason’s face and he glanced at Effie to see her staring at the young woman, her hands clasped and pressed against her lips. Mags seemed equally tensed, clutching her walking stick.

“Okay, what am I missing?” he asked.

He got his answer one minute in the program when Mason faltered and put a hand down to steady herself after a jump.

“She is stubborn.” Effie grumbled. “She is so very stubborn.”

“So were you, girl.” Mags breathed out.

Odair was tossing his partner anxious glances every now and then. Another loop and Johanna fell, immediately picking herself up with a sneer but it was enough for his own heart to beat a little faster.

“Effie, we won.” he said.

“I will consider it a victory if she doesn’t end up evacuated on a stretcher.” she hissed back, obviously missing his point.

“What’s her problem?” he frowned, studying the young woman on the ice.

Odair was clearly holding back now, not tossing her as high as he should have despite her glaring. Rule one, Haymitch thought, protect the girl even when she was too stubborn to do it by herself. He could relate to that.

“She twisted her ankle a few weeks ago.” Effie sighed. “And it is not healed but she would not miss the competition – which I can understand. Her obstinacy to go without treatment on the other end…”

“You know why she wants to go without.” Mags countered, stern.

The two women left it at that and Haymitch rolled his eyes, elbowing Effie. “Catch me up.”

Her blue eyes darted around before coming back to him and she stepped closer to whisper in his ear, clearly not wishing to be overheard. “She had a drug addiction problem in her teens. Morphine. Mags took her in, helped her out of it and put her on the ice but Johanna is wary of anything remotely resembling painkillers and you will never get her to a hospital while she is conscious.”

He nodded to show he had understood, a little surprised by how well she knew those kids. He had thought they were just passing acquaintances not… Close friends. Then again, Mags had always been family to her and the old woman had a habit of collecting damaged strays and piecing them back together.

The rest of the performance went as well as could be given the circumstances. Mason brushed off all concerned questions or attempts at helping. She went straight to the notation booth and looked neither at Mags nor at her partner even when Odair leaned in to whisper something to her.

The notes were close to Cato and Clove’s but they managed to rank second, making Katniss and Peeta national champions.

The kids were thrilled. They were _all_ thrilled. But once the euphoria had died down a little and the kids excused themselves to get changed, announcing they would meet them in the lobby, Haymitch turned around and realized Effie had disappeared. Since he had a good idea of where she had gone, he snatched some ice packs from the medical emergency point and wandered backstage.

He found them in the big deserted waiting room. The TV screen was still displaying the now empty rink and there were a few water bottles abandoned all around. Mason was on one of the couches with Effie, skates still on, struggling to get her leg off his former partner’s lap. Effie had a death grip though and wasn’t about to be denied.

“Would you sit still!” she snapped. “I already broke a nail on your shoelaces.”

“You’re _not_ my trainer!” Mason hissed back, pushing her hands away. “Go baby your Girl on Fire, I don’t need you to mom me!”

“I am neither your trainer nor your mother but I _am_ your friend, God knows why, and I _will_ help even if I have to knock you out to do it.” Effie threatened.

“So _violent_ , Princess.” Haymitch snorted, making both of the women freeze.

Effie recovered first and swiftly got the laces of Mason’s skate undone. “Haymitch, _do_ be a dear and get me some ice.”

“Ahead of you.” he said, waving the ice packs.

Her face softened in a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

Mason was muttering under her breath a nice string of obscenities and as careful as Effie tried to be while removing her skate, the girl flinched and hissed. The ankle was badly swollen.

“Impressive and stupid.” Haymitch mocked, placing the ice packs around it. It would leave a wet spot on Effie’s skirt but she didn’t seem to mind. She bent down to get the other skate off. “And here I thought I had the only woman crazy enough to do something like that…”

“I am not nor was I ever _your woman_.” Effie huffed. “ _Caveman_.”

Haymitch simply winked at her.

“Get a room.” Mason grumbled.

He decided his former partner was right, Mason and Katniss would either be best friends or archenemies if not _both_. The prospect was frightening.

“Where’s the golden boy?” he asked. “You’re not walking out of here on that ankle.”

“Watch me.” Mason snarled.

“I’ll watch you getting your ass hauled in an ambulance for sure if you try.” he scoffed.

“Can you carry her?” Effie asked.

“No way.” Mason shook her head. “No _fucking_ way. I’m leaving on my own two feet.”

Haymitch closed and opened his fists a few times. He hadn’t had nearly enough liquor in the last few months. Going jogging and the occasional trip to the gym had put him back in shape a little but the weakness inherent to the lack of liquor negated that advantage. He didn’t completely trust himself.

“There will be press outside.” he pointed out.

“We will use another exit.” Effie dismissed. “I would rather keep Katniss and Peeta away from that circus for now. I promised Caesar exclusivity.”

“Great. You know how I love that.” he deadpanned. “Fine. Go get the kids, I’ll meet you at the backdoor.” He shot a warning look at Mason. “Don’t struggle or I’ll drop you, sweetheart.”

“Call me sweetheart again and I will _gut_ you.” Mason snarled.

“Aren’t you a little ray of sunshine…” he chuckled, lifting her up.

She begrudgingly locked her arms around his neck, a sulk glued to her face. “It’s just a sprain.”

“If it’s just a sprain stop being a child about it.” he snapped. “You stay off it until it’s better and you _shut up_.”

“Play nice, will you.” Effie sighed. “I will collect the others.”

He tried to avoid the most crowded corridors but he didn’t think they escaped the building unseen. She was still in her costume and her jacket was open, she shivered when they stepped outside and instinctively burrowed against his chest to seek his warmth.

“Why are you helping me?” Mason asked with a sneer. “I’m your competition.”

“You’re Effie’s friend.” he shrugged, jolting her a little.

The sulk glued to her face deepened and Haymitch wondered how old she was exactly. Around twenty-one, he thought. He remembered feeling _so_ adult at twenty-one when he had only still be a kid. Even the years with Effie… He had felt so accomplished, so _grown-up_ , so sure they were ready for _real_ life…

“Trinket thinks she’s my mom.” Mason grumbled.

“Worse moms to have.” he pointed out. As overbearing and irritating as she sometimes was, Effie was kind and loving. She was also loyal to a fault to her friends. She was the absolute opposite of her own mother. “She mothers when she loves you.”

“She’s a _bitch_.” Mason spat.

“Careful.” he growled in warning.

They glared at each other for a moment and then Mason dropped her eyes.

“She’s not _the worst_ bitch.” she amended.

He was saved from answering that by the herd that spilled out of the center, led by none other than Effie Trinket. Odair immediately pushed past her to make a grab at Mason and Haymitch let him take her away from him with relief. She wasn’t heavy but he was starting to feel the strain. The Cresta girl who always trailed after Mags or Odair rushed forward too, wrapping Mason in her coat.

“I picked up your stuff for you, Jo.” Cresta told her.

“Thanks.” Mason mumbled, resting her head on Odair’s shoulder.

Katniss and Peeta stayed aside with the kid and the best friend while Mags and Effie talked in hushed voices.

Somehow, Haymitch had the feeling that it wouldn’t be so difficult for the US team to be a _real_ team at the World Championships that year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Effie and Haymitch was inspired by Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peizerat at the 2001 European championships, Katniss and Peeta was inspired by Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's Carmen perfomance at the 2013 World Championships, and Jo and Finnick was inspired by Ksenia Stobolva and Fendor Klimov's performance at the 2015 GP skate america. All vids can be found on the tumblr post for this chapter =)
> 
> Did you like the free programs? Next week we have a famous guest star! Can you guess who? I will give you a clue he shares a name with a famous roman emperor...


	13. Chapter 13

“Katniss, Peeta… I have to say it’s a real pleasure to have you here.” Caesar started.

Peeta glanced at Katniss’ strained smile and thanked the host for the both of them. It felt odd sitting on those white armchairs faced with Caesar Flickerman. This sports talk show had existed since _forever_ and yet Caesar looked the same as ever, as if time rippled on him without touching him. The only indications that years passed were his extravagant hairstyles that changed with fashion.

“When I heard _Effie Trinket_ and _Haymitch Abernathy_ had come out of hiding to train two young people, I knew those two must have been exceptional and I must say… You do _not_ disappoint.” The host smiled. “How does it feel to win Nationals with such a clear advance?”

Katniss was clearly fighting to keep her strained smile on, her eyes kept darting from the spotlights above to the cameras to Effie and Haymitch waiting backstage for their turn, to Caesar. She was wearing a pretty red dress Effie had forced on her and heels she couldn’t walk on without clinging to Peeta’s arm like a drowning woman. Their trainer had declared her beyond her help and after one hour of coaching her about content, Haymitch had declared Peeta should handle the talking if possible.

The key, Haymitch had insisted, was to be _interesting, likeable_. There were sponsors lining up but Haymitch and Effie were aiming for bigger fish and bigger fish only opened their wallets for celebrity worthy athletes. Finnick Odair had a gift for attracting huge sponsors, his _America’s darling_ image was Mags’ selling point. _They_ needed a selling point too, Haymitch had said.

“It was a surprise.” Peeta answered honestly. “We truly weren’t expecting it. We worked hard to get qualified but we never dreamed we would beat Finnick and Johanna…”

Caesar flashed him an encouraging smile. “Are you close with Mags Cohen’s team? Perhaps you could shed some light on Johanna Mason’s injury… They have been very close mouthed about it. Are they planning to go on competing this season or are they forfeiting? In which case, the stand-in team would be sent to the World Championships in their steed…”

Katniss frowned, her smile dropping. “She just has a sprain. She’s not _dying_ or anything…”

“That’s a really reassuring diagnosis indeed!” Caesar chuckled.

Peeta nudged her foot with his discreetly. “What Katniss means is that… We can’t really talk for Finnick and Johanna but I’m pretty sure it will take more than a sprain to keep Johanna Mason away from the ice. We really look forward to going to the Worlds Championships together. It’s a honor but I think it will also be fun.”

He added that with a somehow sheepish smile, as if it was a guilty pleasure of his to enjoy the trip.

“I bet you do.” the host answered joyfully. “So I take it the lot of you, young people, are good friends then? I can’t imagine there is any rivalry between Mags Cohen and your trainers like it sometimes happens with other teams…”

“We’re really all good friends, yes.” Peeta confirmed easily. “We actually all had dinner after Nationals to celebrate… It was really fun.”

Caesar nodded cheerfully, apparently happy with this statement. “Tell us more about yourselves… Effie and Haymitch have kept you away from cameras, we know next to nothing about you… What about you, Katniss? Who was that pretty little young lady hugging you right after your victory?”

The screen behind them that had been flashing the talk show logo suddenly flared to life with pictures from Nationals. A few from their performances and then one of Katniss and Prim hugging.

“Oh, that’s my sister Prim.” Katniss said with a genuine smile. “Primrose.”

“Primrose, what a pretty name.” the host hummed. “Are you two close?”

“Very.” she answered, brightening up a little. “She’s fifteen and she’s already a genius. She’s such a kind soul… I know she will do great things.”

“Is she a skater too?” Caesar asked softly, as if to invite Katniss’ confidence.

“No.” Katniss shook her head, an amused smile on her lips. “No, she can’t skate to save her life. But she has other gifts.”

“You have too.” the host pointed out. “I hear you are a very talented hockey player. A talent you share with one of your trainers, I believe. Do you and Haymitch sometimes have hockey matches?”

“I… No.” she hesitated. “Haymitch never talks about hockey.”

“I think Haymitch put hockey behind him.” Peeta cut in smoothly, grabbing her hand and squeezing it, hoping she would get the message and drop that particular subject. “It was a long time ago.”

“It certainly was.” Caesar agreed easily.

“Peeta has other talents too.” Katniss blurted out, clearly out of her depth. “He’s an artist.”

Surprised by that declaration, Peeta briefly gaped at her. “I’m… really _not_.”

“Of course, you are.” she insisted, rolling her eyes. “Your drawings are beautiful.”

“They’re just doodles.” he protested.

“They’re _beautiful_.” she repeated firmly.

Caesar cleared his throat and Peeta blinked, feeling stupid for having forgotten for a moment _where_ they were. A knowing smile was playing on the man’s lips. “So… If you don’t mind me asking, Peeta… Do you have a special someone out there?”

He was still holding Katniss’ hand and he didn’t need to glance at the monitor to know the camera was zooming in on their entwined fingers.

“I…” he stammered. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated…” Caesar repeated, leaning in. “ _Do_ tell.”

_Be interesting,_ Haymitch had said _, be likeable…_

“Well, there’s this girl… But she doesn’t even know I exist.” he shrugged, throwing a meaningful look at Katniss.

Katniss, not surprisingly, completely missed the point. She was frowning. “You never said there was anyone…”

“Well…” He let out a nervous laugh. “I tried but you’re not really receptive.”

Katniss blinked once, twice, and then tried to snatch her hand away from his but he held on fast.

Caesar clapped his hands together, a delighted smile on his lips. “A _romance_! I knew it. Seeing you two on the ice, it was _obvious_ …”

“But…” she started to protest. Peeta squeezed her hand and she glared at him.

“I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today but I’m certain we will see each other again before the World Championships.” Caesar cut in, looking directly at the camera. “And now, after the break, we will have an _exclusive_ interview with your trainers, Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy back in the competition business after fifteen years of silence. That is right, ladies and gentlemen, Fire and Ice back together and on my set! Stay tuned!”

The red light died and Katniss finally tore her hand away from him, looking from Caesar to the team behind the cameras before storming out. Peeta followed, a wince on his face. Haymitch and Effie didn’t look either pleased or displeased.

“Katniss, wait…” he pleaded, reaching for her shoulder.

She turned around and violently pushed him. Peeta was sure she would have punched him if Haymitch hadn’t placed himself between them.  

“What did you do that for?!” she shouted. “Now everyone is going to think we’re together!”

“He made you interesting.” Haymitch snapped. “He made you _desirable._ Did you think this whole thing was just about what’s going on on the ice? It’s a _show_ , sweetheart. Your whole life is a show. Welcome to the public sphere!”

“Enough.” Effie hissed. “We do _not_ make scenes in public. It will have to wait until we are back at the hotel. And then again, I would rather do _without_. Haymitch and Peeta are right. _This_ makes you interesting, _this_ will get you attention.”

“I don’t want attention!” Katniss retorted.

“Then you went into the wrong line of business.” she retorted. “It should be all about the performances, I whole-heartedly agree, but it is _not_. It has _never_ been all about the performances and I am afraid it will never be. This is a necessary game to play.”

Katniss pursed her lips in annoyance. “It’s not right. He should have asked first.”

“Oh, so _that_ ’s what you’re angry about then?” Haymitch sneered. “That he didn’t buy you dinner first?”

“You can talk!” she hissed. “You’ve been denying having an affair with Effie all along! You always acted pissed-off when they asked you about it! We saw the videos!”

Peeta cringed and tried to step in but a glare from Katniss and he wisely remained silent.

“First…” Haymitch growled. “My relationship with Effie isn’t your business so you _shut your mouth_ about it, got it? Second, it was _all_ a show. Keeping them wondering, _that’s_ what made _us_ interesting, that was _our_ angle.”

“It was our public personas, Katniss.” Effie cut in, more softly. “Our friends and family knew the truth and that was enough for us. _Everyone_ in the business knew the truth really… It was something of an open secret. The rest… The rest was just an act.”

“The boy just gave you an opportunity.” Haymitch insisted. “We can sell the love story.”

Katniss was still glowering with anger and Peeta stepped in, lifting both hands in a defensive gesture. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have asked first. But for the record… I wasn’t lying.”

She rolled her eyes and stormed off.

“ _Smooth_ , boy.” Haymitch scoffed. “Remind me to give you a few pointers about girls.”

Peeta shot him an annoyed glance but, fortunately, Effie and Haymitch were called on stage before he could add anything.

°O°

Effie was disturbed by the scene backstage and being ushered on set so quickly didn’t afford her time to recover.

“Smile.” she briskly reminded Haymitch. “And mind your manners. Caesar! How _wonderful_ to see you!”

The host made a show of welcoming both of them, air kisses for her and a manly hug for Haymitch, and soon, _too_ soon, they were sitting on the familiar armchairs. Effie was reminded of the many times they had sat right there and, above all, of the last time this had happened. She had barely managed to stand being in Haymitch’s presence then…

Caesar was watching them with his bright patented white teeth smile, shaking his head a little as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Fire and Ice…”

“We go by Effie and Haymitch, you know.” Haymitch joked, his charmer smile on. “We’re simple people.”

“That, you are not!” Caesar exclaimed. “You, my dear Haymitch, are a riddle wrapped into a mystery. Let’s remind our audience of the facts, shall we?” He gestured at the screen behind them as pictures came up to illustrate his speech. “Eighteen years ago, trained by twice Olympic champion Mags Cohen, Effie, you and your partner Seneca Crane were living the dream. Not only were you considered to be the next great pair figure skaters, the one everyone was betting on, you two were also making us dream with your fairy-tale like relationship. Seneca never made a secret of his plans to propose to you…” It was odd seeing Seneca on that screen. It had been a long time since she had thought back about _them_. The news of his death had saddened her but it had been a distant sorrow. “Everything changed, of course, during a gala in 1996 when you failed to land after a jump. The injury to your ligaments was massive and required several repairing surgeries…” She dropped her eyes, the images still humiliating after all those years: her clutching her knees, the tears of pain rolling down her face, the stretcher, Seneca’s utter dismay… “Everyone announced you finished. Your partnership as well as your personal relationship with Seneca ended on a sour note…”

“That’s one way to put it.” Haymitch scoffed. “Truth is he was a jerk.”

“Don’t speak ill of the dead.” Effie chided him. “It was a long time ago in any case.”

“Yet despite everything experts had to say you came back to competitions with an unusual choice of partner…” Caesar continued. “Now, Haymitch, you used to play hockey before a tragic accident ended in your retirement from the sport. You met Effie through common friends and the two of you decided to defy the odds by partnering even though you had never practiced figure skating before.”

“That’s right.” Haymitch confirmed.

“Will you hush.” Effie sighed. “He knows it is right.”

A genuinely amused smile popped on the host’s lips. “I must say I am happy you are still quibbling like a married couple – but we will come to _that_ in a moment.” He gestured at the screen behind them again. “You ranked third at Nationals in 1997, already creating the surprise since no one, myself included I’m sorry to say, believed you had your chances. You went on that season by winning every other competition you attended, sometimes beating to the bush the 1997 actual National Champions, and in a theater worthy twist of fate, you ended up competing in the 1997 World Championships when Viola Summercket and Seneca Crane were forced to forfeit.”

A picture of them with their gold medals appeared on the screen and Effie smiled, exchanging a look with Haymitch. He was standing behind her, on that picture, his left arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her to him, waving at the crowd with his free hand while she clutched an enormous bunch of flowers to her chest, grinning so hard she remembered it hurt for hours afterward. It was the picture that had followed them most of their career, the one journalists always defaulted to. She had gifted him with a framed copy of it for his twenty-fifth birthday and it had stayed on the nightstand on his side of the bed until he had vanished from her life. She didn’t know if he still had it somewhere in Virginia.

“Happy memory?” Caesar asked them, probably looking for an emotional moment. “Switzerland must have been a turning point for you both.”

“You bet.” Haymitch snorted. “What I liked more about Switzerland were the bathtubs.”

“Haymitch, please, hush before I make you.” she threatened.

“I sense there is a story there.” the host probed.

“Absolutely not.” Effie hissed as Haymitch smirked.

“Well, after that you went on winning, culminating with a second World Champion title in 1998 and a ticket for the Olympic Games.” Caesar finished. “And that is when the story gets strange. You made no secret of your ambitions to the gold medal and ended up with silver. Now, your free program was what dragged you down. It was a beautiful piece but you _did_ skate better before… The piece you did for the closing gala exhibition was terribly emotional…” Effie didn’t even look at the picture of her in her blue dress. Nagano’s gala exhibition might have been the worst night of her life. “It was the last time you two skated together, was it not?” 

“Yeah.” Haymitch answered when she remained silent.

“And did you know at that point it would be the last time?” Caesar insisted gently.

“Yeah.” he said again.

The host nodded thoughtfully. “Haymitch, you didn’t attend the Games’ closing ceremony. Rumors started flying around that you were retiring and you were nice enough to come here to confirm it… It was the only interview you gave, I believe…” He waited until Haymitch nodded to go on. “You gave no real explanation as to the reasons of your retiring. Effie went on to find another partner even though, you will forgive me for saying so, it wasn’t a real success…”

“I think pair skating is similar to true love. You can only have one real partner.” Effie offered with a small smile. “Haymitch was mine. Nobody else could compare and even though it took me a long time to understand that, I eventually accepted it.”

Caesar nodded. “There were a lot of speculations as to _why_ you actually retired, Haymitch. The most popular theory is that you and Effie had a fallout… Now, I know you denied it several times, and on this very set in particular, but…”

“Haymitch and I are determined to leave the past in the past.” Effie cut him off with a fake cheerful smile. “To start again on the right foot. We are very happy with Katniss and Peeta’s performance at Nationals.”

“Yes, they were astounding and I am not surprised you two had a hand in that.” the host nodded before flashing her an apologetic smile. He had promised her to be nice with the children but, as she had just told Katniss, this was all still a show and the crowd required blood – or, more accurately, exclusive revelations. “Haymitch, it is understandable if you don’t wish to answer… We heard rumors that your problem with alcohol…”

“Haymitch has no problem with alcohol.” she snapped, narrowing her eyes at Caesar.

Haymitch patted her leg comfortingly. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, sweetheart…”

“ _Language_.” she hissed. “You are on national TV.”

His grey eyes were twinkling with amusement. He pointed his thumb at her, addressing Caesar. “Don’t you think she looks the same as fifteen years ago? Such a pain the ass… It’s a shame she’s so hot…”

“ _Haymitch_!” she gasped.

“I’m calling it as I see it, sweetheart.” he chuckled.

 Caesar laughed with him while she huffed in disapproval.

“You two look thick as thieves.” the host remarked. “Did you keep in touch all this time?”

“Not at all.” Effie answered. “Our reunion was a chance meeting really.”

“Not so much a chance meeting. The kids planned it.” Haymitch corrected.

“Really?” Caesar asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yeah.” Haymitch snorted. “You met the boy. He’s a romantic at heart.”

Effie glanced at him, trying to figure out if the lapse was on purpose or not. Haymitch winked at her and she rolled her eyes. Like old times, then…

“So you _do_ admit there is a romance…” the host grinned.

“We _admit_ nothing of the sort.” Effie replied with a cheerful laugh. “I _will_ admit I am happy we rekindled our friendship though.”

“I must say I am very happy about this too.” Caesar confessed. “You were my favorite guests back in the day. You two are _never_ boring.”

“Not what the kids say.” Haymitch mocked.

“The children think _you_ are boring.” Effie countered. “They are perfectly happy to listen to my stories. They think I am interesting.” She grinned at Caesar. “I am the interesting trainer.”

“Like hell you are.” he scoffed. “Katniss almost fell asleep in her soup the other day ‘cause you can just _never_ stop talking for a _fucking_ minute.”

“How many times do I have to remind you to mind your language?” she retorted.

“Bossy.” he accused.

“Rude.” she shot back without missing a beat.

“See?” Caesar laughed. “ _Never_ boring. Well… We will have to finish on this note. I hope you had a great time watching us and I will see you next week, same place, same time!”

The moment the cameras were off, Caesar’s joyful expression faded to something a little less… _extreme_. Effie dropped her fake smile for a polite one.

“For the record…” Caesar offered as they all stood up. “I _am_ happy to see you back together. I had always hoped you two would end up getting married… _That_ ’s a wedding I would have been happy to cover.”

Effie averted her eyes. Getting married… They had talked about it… They had never been officially _engaged_ but they had shared an understanding… She had been looking at wedding dresses in bridal magazines for months when they had left for Japan.

“Yeah, see… If we _had_ gotten married we wouldn’t have invited you.” Haymitch smirked. “Not as _press_ anyway.”

“Ah, come on, Haymitch… You know I would have gotten the exclusivity out of you…” the host chuckled.

“It is a moot point since it never happened.” she said, more harshly than she intended. She licked her lips, ashamed of herself for losing her temper. “If you will excuse me, I need to check on the children.”

She didn’t go far before Haymitch caught up with her, his trembling fingers coiling around her wrist. “Effie…”

“Don’t.” she begged. “The past is in the past. It is too late now to contemplate missed opportunities.”

°O°

_Effie loved the sun._

_She spent her time locked in a freezing rink and she abhorred being cold – on that front, getting involved with Haymitch had been a blessing, there was no getting cold with him in a bed, he was like a portative heater – so she soaked the heat on her skin, behind her sunglasses, sprawled on one of the wooden lounge chairs on the deck. Her mother had disapproved the trip naturally, as well as the company she intended to keep, but Effie had rented the villa on the coast nonetheless. It had a private access to the beach and it was all Haymitch and she needed to recover from the 97 World Championships and the end of the season before they started training for the next one. The next one would be an Olympic year and she was decided not to miss her chance._

_Water trickled on her and she jerked, extending a hand to protect herself and glaring above her sunglasses at the man dripping water everywhere._

_“Sorry, love.” Chaff taunted even though he had obviously done it on purpose._

_Chaff had arrived five days earlier and would spent the remaining of the week with them. It was her idea to invite him. He was Haymitch’s best friend, they didn’t manage to see each other a lot throughout the year and she knew he missed him. Aside for his couth behavior, crude jokes and pranks, she quite liked Chaff. He and Haymitch tended to act like children, leaving her to shake her head at them from the sidelines, but it was also fun when they all went out together and Chaff asked her to be his wing man because Haymitch was helpless at it. Her only real trouble with him was that his hands tended to wander when he was drunk – although Haymitch must have had a talk with him about that, she thought, because he had done it once in his line of sight and had never so much as touched her again._

_“How is the water?” she asked._

_“Wet.” Chaff snorted, grabbing the towel he had abandoned on one of the chairs. He dabbed at his face a few times before dropping on the lounge chair next to her. “Where’s Haymitch?”_

_“Cooking.” she hummed, stretching a little._

_“Cooking.” he repeated dubiously._

_“He grumbles but he is good at it.” she grinned. “And there might have been an unfortunate incident on our first day here… I am forbidden from using the kitchen. He doesn’t enjoy having to put out a fire.”_

_Chaff’s laughter boomed out. He was always so carefree… It always startled her a little. It was far from the world she was used to where it was all strained polite smiles and faked little laughs. Best friends stabbed you in the back in her world but Haymitch’s world was very different and she was enjoying the change of scenery. She wasn’t sure she and Chaff would have gotten along well in other circumstances but she was Haymitch’s girlfriend and he was his best friend and they were probably the two people he loved best in the world, not being friends wasn’t an option for them._

_“Never seen him like this.” he commented._

_“Cooking?” she wondered, absentmindedly reaching for the sunscreen and rubbing some on her nose where she could feel the sunburn developing. She pushed her sunglasses back on her head to look at him curiously. He had reclined in his chair and was watching her with a pensive look on his face._

_“Happy.” he corrected. “Carefree. I’ve known Haymitch a while… He was always worrying about his mom and his brother… After the accident…” Chaff shrugged. “I’ll be honest, love, I was scared he was going to do something_ real _stupid.”_

_She averted her eyes and looked at the ocean stretching in the distance, distractedly playing with the silver charm bracelet around her wrist. “He rarely talks about them. He has nightmares sometimes but… He doesn’t talk about them. I think he is better now than he was a year ago, though. He doesn’t struggle so much with alcohol, for one thing.”_

_She felt a little guilty talking about him behind his back, even if Chaff was his best friend. It wasn’t about gossiping though. It was about… reassurances, she thought._

_“That’s ‘cause he has you.” he said slowly. “Never saw him so serious about a girl before either.”_

_“Oh…” she said, feeling herself blush a little. “Well… We are partners. It makes everything more intense.”_

_“I bet.” he taunted._

_She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him, a little self-conscious in her red bikini. “Would you take your mind out of the gutter?”_

_“Hard to when you’re pawing at each other every chance you get.” he smirked. “I’m glad though. You’re good for him. He needed someone like you.”_

_“I think I needed someone like him too.” she admitted softly._

_“Yeah, the stick in your ass needed kicking.” he chortled but his voice soon turned grave. “You’re serious about this though, right? It’s not just a spoiled little girl’s adventure in the real world? ‘Cause if you’re playing with him…”_

_“I am not!” she huffed. “And I will thank you not to make these sorts of assumptions about me.”_

_“Hold your horse, love, I’m just looking out for him.” Chaff countered. “I’m the only family he’s got left and he’s so besotted with you I keep waiting for him to talk me into helping him find you a ring…”_

_“Preposterous.” she declared. “We are not there yet.”_

_“Aren’t you?” he scoffed. “’Cause it looks to me like you’re having your little experiment with married life right here, right now. He’s in love with you. Never saw him like that before. I guess you can ask him for the moon, he’ll find a way to get it for you. It’s hilarious to watch.”_

_She turned her head away. Were they having a little experiment in married life? The urge to get away from Aspen had been strong and she couldn’t claim she was used to living alone without staff or a cook or a driver but when they had talked about a vacation he had been adamant he didn’t want any of that. They fought a lot but, then again, they always fought. He liked to mock her and say she was like a child who could do nothing by herself – laundry, cooking, cleaning… It had taken some adjustment on her part and a lot of pointers from him and even then he always ended up doing almost everything after she had ranted for two hours about him being unhelpful. The bright side to not having staff around was the complete privacy, she didn’t have to put on airs or to pretend all the time – she never did that with Haymitch._

_“He isn’t the marrying kind.” she answered finally, pushing her sunglasses back on her nose._

_“Maybe not with anyone else.” Chaff agreed. “But, like I said… Never saw him so in love before.”_

_She knew Haymitch loved her. She had known since Paris and, perhaps, even before that. She kept her eyes averted anyway. He was always so reserved with his feelings, it felt wrong to discuss them with someone else._

_“I will go see if he needs help.” she declared._

_“You’ll smooch him, you mean.” he taunted. “It’s alright, love, I’ll stay here and pretend I don’t know you’re fooling around in the kitchen…”_

_They hadn’t fooled around_ only _in the kitchen but Chaff didn’t need to know that. She tossed the sunscreen on his chest when she walked past him. He might not get sunburn but too much sun wasn’t good for the skin. She also pretended hard he wasn’t checking her out as she retreated inside the house because it was a habit she wished he would lose._

_The kitchen was an open space that gave on the living-room. It was all chrome-plated surfaces, shiny silver and white cabinets… It looked modern and Effie loved it so naturally Haymitch hated it. He had barely reconciled with the room after he had discovered the counters were at hip levels and that they were useful for more things than just cooking._

_He glanced over his shoulder when he felt her approach, looking annoyed. “How come I’m the one stuck behind the stove?”_

_“Well, I did suggest soup but you said you wanted real food – which is ridiculous because soup_ is _real food, it is not my fault if you are always starving.” she pointed out, wrapping her arms around his torso and briefly burying her nose in his shoulder blades. His tee-shirt smelt like her because she had borrowed it the previous night and it made the possessive side of her personality purr in satisfaction. “What are you doing?”_

_“Pasta.” he grumbled. “If you wanted some fancy_ shit _, you should have ordered take out.”_

_She hummed and burrowed against his back, reaching around him from the wooden spoon he was using to stir the tomato sauce. “I like it when you cook.”_

_“Sure, you do. You like having slaves.” he taunted, batting her hand away from the spoon._

_She was cunning though and so she simply sneaked under his arm and reached for the spoon again. They battled for it for a second and it culminated in the spoon hitting her in the cheek. She winced at the feeling of hot tomato sauce spread on her skin but he chuckled, mocking her mercilessly._

_“It is not funny.” she hissed._

_“Oh, yeah, it is…” he taunted. “Hey, sweetheart, you’ve got something on your face…”_

_She pouted and folded her arms in front of her chest, not moving an inch when he drew her close to him and lowered his lips to her skin. He licked the sauce away and it_ really _shouldn’t have been as much a turn on as it was. When there was no more tomato sauce, his mouth wandered to her throat and she instinctively tilted her head to the side, feeling his fingers blindly searching for the knot of her bikini at her back._

_“Your best friend is right outside the door.” she warned._

_His hand stilled and he groaned in annoyance. “Why did we invite him again?”_

_“Because you love him, you miss him, and I think he fully intends to be your best man one day.” she grinned._

_“Why, sweetheart… Are you proposing?” he teased, dropping kisses against her skin._

_“Not yet.” she answered, very seriously. “I will wait for you to do it.”_

_He shook his head with some fondness. “Not the marrying type.”_

_“That is_ exactly _what I told him.” she triumphed. “He insists I am special.”_

_“Maybe you are, Princess.” he snorted, pressing a kiss against her lips. “Maybe you are…”_

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

Two weeks after Nationals, Effie was woken up in the middle of the night by frantic knocking on her door.

Frantic knocking at two a.m. never bode well and it took her a few seconds of blinking to establish she was in her bedroom in Aspen and that it could only mean an emergency. Immediately coming to the conclusion one of the children was ill and was seeking help, she bolted out of bed and opened the door, barely taking the time to slip on her dressing gown.

He must have been leaning against the door because his whole weight fell on her when she opened it and she staggered back, instinctively fighting to keep Haymitch upright. Her first thought was that he was drunk. But then he started clinging to her, hugging her so tight she could hardly breathe and whispering in her ear again and again. “I’m dying. Effie, I’m dying.” He was shivering despite the two sweaters he had on and his voice was breaking with every word. “Don’t wanna die alone. You stay with me, sweetheart. You stay with me.”

“You are burning up!” she gasped. The heat coming from his body was unbearable. She pushed him back enough to place her hand on his forehead and bit her bottom lip. “You need a doctor.”

“No!” he shouted. “No! _No_! No hospital. I don’t wanna die in a hospital.”

“Will you stop?” she hissed. “You are not _dying_ , you stupid man. Certainly not on my watch.”

She helped him to her bed and looked around for her phone, trying to remember where she had left it, but he was stubborn in his clinging.

“I’m cold.” he mumbled “I’m so cold…”

He had a fever, that was quite obvious. She sat on the edge of the bed, at a loss for what to do. He hadn’t been well those past few days but with Katniss and Peeta trying to come to terms with their now tensed relationship, the house had been a battlefield. Everyone was fighting with everyone and it fell on her to try and put back some semblance of order.

It didn’t look like the flu though. His eyes were bloodshot, he was sweating, his fingers were badly quivering and his skin looked slightly yellow.

“When was the last time you had a drink, Haymitch?” she whispered.

He shook his head, making an attempt at grabbing the comforter but she kicked it further away from him. She didn’t think it was a good idea to cover him, he already had enough layers and the fever was high enough as it was.

He stared at her, his teeth shattering, then he curled up on his side and pressed his forehead against her leg. “Three days.”

“You are in withdrawals.” she deduced. “You need a doctor, Haymitch.”

He shook his head again, looking at her with shiny eyes. “They’ll send me to rehab. Don’t send me there, Effie. Don’t.”

She sighed and brushed her fingers through his hair. “Haymitch, this is dangerous. You need medical attention. I don’t know what to do…”

“Just stay with me.” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against her leg again. “Dying’s not so bad if you’re here.”

“You are _not_ dying.” she growled. “You are forbidden to die. Do you hear me?”

“No doctor.” he mumbled.

She let out a deep breath. “If your fever gets worse, I _will_ call for a doctor, are we clear?” She kept petting his hair, watching him with dread.

After half a hour, he started muttering, fighting off nightmare induced monsters. He only calmed down a little when he heard her voice so she combed his hair with her fingers and talked about everything and nothing.

“What if we don’t get the waltz right?” he muttered after a while, sneaking an arm around her waist and shifting until his upper body rested on her legs. She had leaned against the headboard at some point, tired of sitting up. “Mags says it’s key but I’m _shit_ at that waltz…”

The waltz… She had almost forgotten about that. The waltz had been their first short program. The one from 1997.

“We were fabulous in the waltz.” she hummed. “Don’t you remember? We ranked second at Nationals with it, darling. And we ranked first at the World Championships.”

“Red dress.” he mumbled.

“Yes.” she smiled. “My dress was red.”

He closed his eyes and nuzzled her stomach, looking for comfort or contact, she wasn’t sure. “I love you in red.”  

“Yes, you do.” she humored him.

“Don’t leave me again.” he suddenly begged, curling up further against her. “Please, sweetheart, don’t leave me again…” She was about to answer that she hadn’t been the one doing the leaving when he cut her off.  “I love you… Don’t leave me. I won’t drink again. I’ll stop. I don’t care about gold. I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s more important. I want you. _I love you_. Effie… _Effie_ …”

“Shhh…” she whispered softly despite the lump in her throat. “I am right here. I won’t go anywhere, I promise. I will stay right here.”

“I love you.” he repeated in his fever induced delirium.

He had never said it so plainly. He had always found ways of telling her without _saying_ it, ways of making her understand without actually wording it.

“I love you too.” she offered slowly. _I love you still_ would have been righter. _I love you despite everything_ , she could have said. _I love you always_. _I love you to the point it’s ridiculous._ “I love you, Haymitch.”

The fever broke a little after dawn and he finally fell asleep. He was plagued by nightmares though and she spent the remaining of the night alternatively fetching him water and whispering reassuring words in his ear. Every time he woke up he would burrow against her side and refuse to move until he fell back asleep.

When her alarm clock started beeping, she immediately hit the _off_ button but too late. Grey stormy eyes looked up at her from where his head was cushioned on her stomach. He looked terrible. And if the fever had broken, he was however still shaking. She covered him with the comforter, noting the sweaters were damp from sweat under his armpits and on his back.

“Do you want a bath?” she asked. “I could run one for you.” He shook his head pitifully. “Alright… Then I will fetch you some clean clothes.” He didn’t outright protest but he tightened his hold on her waist. “Don’t be difficult.” she chided him. “You need to change, you will catch a cold. And I am still unconvinced we shouldn’t call a doctor… At least to examine you and make certain you are alright. There might be medicine that could relieve you some…”

“I’m drying out.” he grumbled. “Was bound to happen one day or another. That’s what you wanted.”

There was hostility and resentment in his voice. He turned away from her, showing her his back, and brought the comforter to his chin.

“You are impossible.” she sighed. “And unfair too. I liked it better when you were professing your love for me.”

He didn’t gratify that with an answer and she left after making sure he had a glass of water readily accessible. She took the shortest shower and quickly slipped on a pink dress, barely taking the time to put some make-up on before coming back to check on him. He was sleeping so she let him be and walked to the other side of the house, to his room, not surprised to find it in total disarray. There were clothes _everywhere_ – dirty or clean, that was anyone’s guess – books and papers scattered around, half the sheets were on the floor probably from his thrashing around in bed… It took her ten minutes to locate a clean pair of sweatpants, balled green flannel socks, and a long sleeve shirt he would be comfortable sleeping in.

She was on her way back to her bedroom, her arms full of clothes when Peeta found her.

“Good morning, dear…” She faked a cheerful smile. “I am afraid Haymitch is feeling under the weather this morning. You and Katniss will have to train by yourself. A jog to start with, as usual, and then maybe some time in the gym?”

“Is he alright?” the boy frowned. “There are people at the gates. I think it’s the camera crew? We’re not sure how to open them…”

_People at the gates… Camera crew…_

_The documentary_.

She had _completely_ forgotten about that. She had agreed to a team shadowing them all for a day. There were supposed to film training and then there would be sitting interviews and a photoshoot for their blog… 

“I can take that to Haymitch if you want to go meet them?” Peeta suggested, reaching out for the clothes.

“I… Yes, perhaps, that would be best.” she agreed, handing them over. “He is in my room.” She didn’t let herself stutter or blush when she said that. She was the adult there and she didn’t owe anyone any explanations. And yet she still found herself clearing her throat. “He came there last night when he was unwell. He had a fever, you see, and…”

“None of my business, Effie.” the boy offered nicely. “Don’t worry.”

Her strained smile faded to a genuine one. “Thank you. You are a dear. If he doesn’t want to change or if he can’t on his own, tell him I will be there soon.”

“I’ll help him.” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

He departed for her room cheerfully and she shook her head, knowing a sick Haymitch was a grumpy Haymitch and that the boy would probably lose his smile very soon.

She hurried to the gates monitor, dreading to let their guests waiting any longer because it was not only rude but unprofessional and berated Katniss during the whole fifteen minutes it took their van to line up in front of the house. They needed the girl to stop sulking and to play the part. Nobody was asking her to fall in love with Peeta but a few smiles and some hand holding wouldn’t have gone amiss – sell the dream people wanted to see.

The boy joined them on the porch just as the car was approaching in the distance.

“He’s showered and in clean clothes.” Peeta reported dutifully, eyes shining with mirth. “I may have threatened to dose his glass of water with sleeping drops and give him a sponge bath if he didn’t cooperate.”

“Haymitch’s sick?” Katniss frowned.

“Do not worry. Everything will be fine. Focus on the camera crew.” she ordered.

The young woman who stepped out of the car looked energetic but Effie had to hide an instinctive pout of disapproval at her appearance. Half of her head was shaved and she was sporting an ivy green tattoo running down her skull to her neck. She had piercings everywhere and was clearly aiming for a grunge look that had been out of fashion for years. She immediately outstretched her hand with a professional smile. “Hello, I am Cressida. This is Messala, my assistant and photographer.” A man equally pierced extended his hand too. “Those two are Castor and Pollux, my cameramen. And we have Octavia who is responsible for hair and make-up. We will shadow you today.”

“How wonderful.” Effie beamed, clasping her hands and surveying the band of… _hooligans_ with some mistrust. The two cameramen didn’t have any piercings but they seemed very amused at her obvious disapproval of Cressida’s style. As for the Octavia woman, her hair was dyed green. _Green_. “We are all very excited. Well, if you want to begin with training, I think it is time for the both of you to go for a run, Katniss, Peeta…” She hesitated. “Or maybe you would like to film them on the rink?”

“Don’t worry about us.” Cressida promised. “We can follow and we won’t get in the way. I would like the documentary to be as natural as possible so… Just do as you would do on any other day.” The young woman bit on her bottom lip while she thought. “Actually… Maybe Castor should go with Katniss and Peeta, and we can start with yours and Mr Abernathy’s interviews, Miss Trinket. I heard you have a trophy room. It would be the perfect place for it. And perhaps if you are agreeable, a few pictures of the two of you on the ice…”

The children looked at her, waiting for her instructions and she flashed them a reassuring smile. “That seems to be a good plan. Unfortunately, Haymitch is feeling out of sort today. We shall have to do without him.”

“Really?” Cressida frowned. “That’s a shame. We really wanted a joined interview.”

Effie’s smile became strained. “We shall see if he feels better in an hour or so. Children, you should go. You know what to do after you’re done jogging, I trust.”

Katniss and Peeta both nodded – Katniss even remembered to smile – and Effie was left with the daunting task of leading the crew inside the house, chatting all the while with a fake bubbly cheer in her voice. She was apprehensive when Octavia sat her down to style her hair and make her camera-ready but, despite her extravagant hairstyle, the young woman was clearly good at her job and she was bubbly. Effie soon found herself laughing and chatting with her as if they were old friends. Meanwhile, Cressida directed Pollux to film every possible angle of the trophy room. She was puzzled by all the silent gesturing going on until Octavia explained that Pollux was mute.

Cressida begged her to check if Haymitch wouldn’t come down for the interview once she was ready so Effie left them to film more of her medals and went upstairs. Her bedroom was empty and, for a second, she was _scared_. People in withdrawals were unpredictable, who knew what he would do? He might hurt himself…Then she heard noises coming from her bathroom and she crept toward the open door warily. Her hand automatically knocked but there was no real need.

Haymitch was sitting on the floor, slumped over the toilets, his head cushioned on his arms. It was as unhygienic as it got. And also a little pitiful. Her heart broke when he looked up at her. The bags under his eyes were very dark and he looked ready to keel over and die.

“At least one of us looks fancy.” he mumbled.

She checked her reflection in the mirror, deciding Octavia had indeed made a fine job. It didn’t stop her from reaching in the cabinet under the sink for a towel. She made sure the water was lukewarm when she wetted it. She dabbed at his face with it, first the forehead, then the back of his neck and finally she wiped his mouth and chin.

It was _disgusting_.

And she wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to see a doctor?” she insisted, flushing the toilets. “I still think you might need medicine…”

“I need booze.” he scoffed. “You want to help me, you get it for me. Get me some booze, sweetheart… Please…”

He wasn’t all there, that was plain to see. She placed her hand on his forehead, not surprised that the fever was back. It was nowhere near as bad as the previous night but it was unmistakable.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” she sighed.

He shook his head and grabbed the toilet seat in a strong grip. “Will be sick again.”

“I will get you a bucket.” she replied. “Come on, Haymitch, don’t be difficult. It won’t do you any good to sit on a cold floor. You need rest.”

It took more coaxing – and more begging on his part for her to give him something to drink – but she managed to get him back into her bed. She left a bucket at his side and a glass of water on the nightstand and promised she would come back to check on him as soon as she could.

Cressida was disappointed Haymitch still wouldn’t come down and Effie thought she only grew more disappointed after the actual interview. Effie was distracted, worried about Haymitch and even though her public persona automatically rose up the challenge and she was cheerful, optimistic and all smiles… She knew the interview was lacking.

_Was she anxious about Katniss and Peeta going against Marvel and Glimmer, the favorite Russian skaters?_ No, why would she be? _Did she think there would be a sort of double competition given that Cashmere and Gloss who had beaten them at the Olympic Games of 98 were coaching Marvel and Glimmer?_  No more than there was any personal competition between them and Enobaria and Brutus. _How did it feel transitioning from being the champion on the ice to the trainer in the stands?_ It was a wonderful opportunity and she and Haymitch were really excited by the change of perspective. _Would they ever see Fire and Ice perform again at a gala or a charity like so many former competitors did?_ It wasn’t in the plans for now but she didn’t exclude anything. _Was Haymitch’s illness serious?_ Simply a stomach bug. Nothing to worry about. _Did he otherwise always attend Katniss and Peeta’s training?_ They trained the children together, as a team. _Were the rumors about his alcoholism as far-stretched as Effie made them sound to be?_ She didn’t see how it was related to the object of the interview and would thank Cressida to stay on track. They didn’t make a habit of crediting rumors with serious answers. _Were they only back together to train Katniss and Peeta or were they back together in a more private setting as well?_ No comment.

She was relieved to be allowed to escape when Castor came back to signal the children were in the gym. She showed Cressida and her team to the room, made sure Katniss and Peeta were comfortable – Peeta was a natural but Katniss’ fake smile still needed some work – and promised to come back in a minute.

It took her a lot more than a minute. Haymitch didn’t seem to be able to keep anything down, not even water, and she was afraid he would get dehydrated. He was curled up on his side, his eyes bright with fever induced tears, and alternated between pushing her away, ordering her to leave until she got him some whiskey, and clinging to her, begging her to stay with him.

She was exhausted.

She hadn’t slept enough the previous night, she hadn’t had time to eat anything all day, and she spent her time running from the children to Haymitch, too aware that the cameras were following her smallest move.

She was relieved when Cressida declared she had enough material for the documentary and they could move on to the photoshoot. The photoshoot would be the last item on the list, then they would leave and Effie would be able to breathe.

“We don’t need you for that.” Peeta whispered, touching her arm. “Go be with him.”

“Are you certain?” she hesitated. “You never did any of that before…”

“We’ll handle it.” Katniss cut in. “And eat something. You look about to faint.”

The tone was curt and Effie clicked her tongue in disapproval but didn’t otherwise chid her, identifying the concern for what it was.

Haymitch was still curled up in her bed, the covers kicked at his feet, his socks and shirt discarded.

“I’m hot.” he muttered when she frowned. The fever seemed to have abated again and he had gone back to his usual grumpy self.

“It needs to be said you are impossible when you are sick.” she declared. “You are a stubborn old mule.”

“Like you’ve got room to talk.” he mumbled.

°o°

_Haymitch wasn’t an early bird. Given the choice he would go to sleep late in the night and get out of bed only around noon. Mags and Effie had a different opinion of what constituted an acceptable hour to get up though and thus everyday he dragged his body out of bed at six thirty, took a shower, staggered to the kitchen to beg a cup of coffee out of Sae, stole a pastry Effie wouldn’t have approved of him eating, and then wandered to the hall where Effie was waiting for him at seven thirty sharp so they could go for a run. Depending on the thickness of the coat of snow outside, they either went to the woods surrounding the property where a clean path circled back all around the estate or they used the treadmill. Given the choice, Haymitch would also pick going outside every time._

_That morning, for the first time in four months of training, Effie was late._

_He waited fifteen minutes, sitting on the steps of the huge staircase, already thinking about the taunts he would be able to throw her way because when_ he _was late he never heard the end of it until the end of the day. At a quarter to eight he frowned and climbed the stairs all the way to her room. Their training program was scheduled down to the minute, any lateness on their part would throw the whole day off and Mags would probably lecture them for hours about being responsible young adults instead of acting like bickering teenagers._

_He didn’t bother knocking on her door and simply stepped in, a taunt already on his lips. “You’re coming or…” He stopped when he spotted her in her bed, buried under the pink comforter. He had expected to find her running around getting ready, not still lying down. His amusement turned to worry. “You’re sick, sweetheart?”_

_“I am fine.” she grumbled. “You shouldn’t barge into people’s bedrooms, Haymitch. It’s rude.”_

_He dropped on her bed, studying her. “Are we skipping running, today? Can think of other kinds of training I would like to do…” He winked at her with a smirk, tugging the comforter down. They had had sex four times and every time had been better than the last. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn’t eager for a repeat._

_She batted his hand away and sat up with a sigh. “No, we can’t afford to lose time. I am sorry I was late. We should go. Were you planning on going to the woods today or did you want to stay in?”_

_She was already dressed, he realized as he watched her carefully extracting herself from the bed. She had her training outfit on. Why had she gotten ready and then decided to go back to bed? That wasn’t like her…_

_“Your butler says the path in the woods is clear so I was thinking out.” It was plain odd to say things like ‘your butler’ and Haymitch would never grow used to it. “But we can stick to the mills if you’re not feeling great.”_

_“No.” she replied, putting on her running shoes. “I am fine. Let’s go.”_

_She was clearly not fine. She was limping._

_He didn’t rise from the bed when she made her way to the door._

_“Your knee’s bothering you.” he observed. “Told you you were pushing too hard yesterday.”_

_“My knee is perfectly fine._ So am I _.” she hissed. “And we are not pushing hard enough. The competition is in two months. The waltz isn’t clean. The free program is nowhere near finished…”_

_“You’re ten minutes away from a breakdown…” he added in a bored voice. “Look, if you’re hurt, you’re hurt. We can keep it easy today and see if you’re better tomorrow. Pushing on that injury isn’t going to help us make any progress, Effie.”_

_“We don’t have the luxury of taking it easy as you say.” she retorted._

_“No? Then what were you staying in bed for, then?” he mocked._

_She didn’t gratify that with an answer but he got it anyway. She was playing down the limping, he realized as they were reaching the start of the trail through the woods. Her face was blank but her lips kept twitching with every step and every time she put her foot down she did it purposefully as if challenging her own body to betray her._

_“Effie.” he growled in warning._

_She started running – if the odd hopping-waddling could be called running – without looking back at him once._

_“Fuck it.” he spat under his breath, taking off after her. He caught up easily and he glared. “What happened to that ‘we can rely on each other’ speech, sweetheart?”_

_“I don’t need to rely on you right now. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” she retorted._

_She tried to pick up the pace, leave him behind like she often easily did, but it didn’t quite work out. She gradually slowed down instead and, to her obvious annoyance, he stuck close to her, ready to break a fall if it came to that. They were near the loop that would take them back to the house when she stopped abruptly and leaned against the nearest tree, her lips pursed tight and looking very white._

_“You’re done playing the hero?” he asked calmly._

_She bit on her bottom lip and averted her eyes. “It is bad manners to mock a lady in distress.”_

_“I’ve been in bed with you. You’re no lady.” he taunted. She flushed red but for different reasons. He walked closer, placing a hand on her waist. “You can walk or you need help?”_

_She hesitated and for a second he thought she would insist on walking but then she shook her head, her eyes filling to the brim with tears she didn’t shed. “It’s been hurting since last night. It’s throbbing. I… I don’t think I can walk back.”_

_“Okay.” was all he said. He wrapped his arm around her waist and waited until she had locked her arms around his neck to pick her up in a practiced move. “Just for the record, sweetheart… You’re_ fucking _stubborn.”_

_“I am not stubborn I am just determined.” she argued, resting her head on his shoulder._

_“Potato, Po-tah-to, Princess.” he snorted._

_It took twice as long as it would usually have taken them to reach the house. Mags was waiting on the porch, her arms crossed, obviously either annoyed or worried by the delay. Any trace of irritation disappeared when she spotted them though and she hurried to meet them._

_“I am fine.” Effie said preemptively. “My knee is simply bothering me a little today. I am sure I’ll be fine in an hour or two.”_

_“She needs ice and painkillers.” Haymitch told Mags firmly. “And she’s staying off that leg today.”_

_“You’re her doctor now, boy?” the old women teased only to immediately nod. “Day off.”_

_“We can’t afford…” Effie started._

_“Shut up.” he snapped. “You’re hurt, so you’re resting before you get_ more _hurt. End of discussion.”_

_He placed her on the couch in the living-room and warned her in a gruff voice that she better_ stay _there. He was happy to escape in search of a blanket, ice and ibuprofen for her because the fight she and Mags got into was nasty._

_“What is_ the point _of calling the doctor?” Effie retorted loudly to whatever their trainer said. “I know what he will say and you know what_ I _will say. Truly, there is no need to waste anyone’s time.”_

_He came back, his arms full of stuff, just as Mags was leaving the room. He met her in the corridor and she shook her head. “Try to keep her off that leg, boy, will you?”_

_“Easier said than done.” he grumbled, taking a deep breath before entering the room where she was pouting on the couch, her legs stretched on the leather to relieve her aching knee. He placed the ice pack on her leg first, ignoring her hissing, and then tossed the blanket on her lap before handing her the painkillers and the bottled water._

_“This is ridiculous.” she complained._

_“You’re ridiculous.” he retorted. “Don’t move from that couch.”_

_Her pout deepened when he left but she looked pleasantly surprised when he came back ten minutes later even though she soon scowled at what he was carrying. “We can’t eat that!”_

_“Sure, we can.” he countered, setting down the plates with the still warm apple pie and the box of vanilla ice cream. “We’re on holidays, sweetheart. You’re allowed crap food on holidays.”_

_“If Mother ever learns…” she argued and he rolled his eyes, cutting her off before she could finish that thought._

_“The dragon’s in Moscow.” he reminded her. “She won’t know if you have a slice of apple pie.”_

_She let out a low tempted whine, staring at the piece of pie he was cutting with longing. “Without ice cream then.”_

_That whine did things to him it shouldn’t have and he carefully kept his eyes averted from her. Her, lying on the couch, whining or whimpering… That was enough for his imagination to go in overdrive._

_“Apple pie isn’t apple pie without ice cream.” he declared, scooping a generous portion of it and placing it on her pastry. “Sae says you need to fill up.”_

_“If I filled up any more you would never be able to lift me up.” she replied, accepting the plate and the spoon with a small smile of gratitude. “I already gained weight since you came here. You are_ always _trying to make me eat things that are not in my diet.”_

_“You’re thin as a toothpick, you can fill up a bit.” he smirked. “So… What’s your favorite movie, sweetheart?”_

_“_ Breakfast at Tiffany’s _. Why?” She moaned when she took her first mouthful of pie and,_ again _, he tried to ignore it but it shot straight to certain parts of him who only wanted to stand to attention. “Do you know how long it has been since I had that?”_

_“Too long.” he scoffed, standing to browse through the collection of video tapes on the shelves. He found what he was looking for and tinkered with the player until it worked. They had one of those new fancy dvd players too but that was still too new and experimental for him. He would stick to VHS. “Your life sucks.”_

_“Language.” she chided him. When the credits started to roll she gasped. “Oh, no, Haymitch! We do not have time to watch a movie! If we can’t practice we should at least watch some tapes or…”_

_“Can you just shut up and relax for once?” he begged, grabbing his own plate and lifting her legs to place them back on his lap so he could sit down on the couch with her._

_It seemed to be too hard of a request to follow for her. She managed to sit still through the first half of the movie, mainly because she was busy eating her pie but she fidgeted through the second half._

_“You’re in pain?” he asked after a while._

_“No.” she denied and when he lifted an eyebrow she sighed. “_ No _. I think the swelling is reducing. And, yes, I now see the wisdom of staying off my leg. I just… I feel guilty. We should be practicing.”_

_“You’re allowed a day off once in a while.” he declared. “We train nonstop seven days a week. Nobody’s gonna die ‘cause we took a day off. Just_ enjoy _.”_

_She sat up when he put a second movie. When he settled back on the couch, instead of placing her legs back on his lap, she leaned against his side. Somehow, without him truly understanding how, they ended up with him lying on the couch and her sprawled on him, her head neatly tucked under his chin, one of his hands under her sweater, palm flat against the smooth skin of her back, and the other playing with her hair._

_“I am surprised you have not tried to get me naked yet.” she confessed, sounding a little put off._

_“Trust me, if there was any way to do it without putting strain on your knee I would already have you begging.” he joked._

_“Perhaps you are not creative enough.” she purred, nuzzling his neck._

_“I’m plenty creative.” he snorted. “I just don’t want to risk you getting hurt._ Awkward _to explain to Mags.”_

_She breathed out slowly and he had the distinct impression she would soon take a nap. On him. Like it was a casual thing they did._

_“You are secretly a softie.” she decided._

_He rolled his eyes but not amount of trying convinced her she was wrong._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised drama and I deliver! We're halfway through! Do you still like it?


	15. Chapter 15

“Effie won’t come down for dinner.” Peeta announced as he entered the living-room.

Annoyed by the interruption, Katniss curled up further on the couch and kept on typing on her phone, generally ignoring him. She had been doing a lot of that lately. She was uncomfortable with the situation and she was even more uncomfortable with how everyone in the house kept expecting her to _be alright_ with the situation. She didn’t know what she resented more: Peeta inventing them a romance on national TV or his following statement that he had meant it – and they hadn’t talked about _that_ yet.

Gale barely answered her texts now even though, according to Prim, he was still a regular visitor of the Everdeen’s household or, at the very least, he sent his brother Rory when he was tied up at work – something her sister seemed to be oddly pleased about but Prim was good at eluding her questions. She had even tried calling the Hawthorne’s house the other day only to be told tactfully by Hazelle that Gale was out with Madge. She hadn’t liked the sympathy in the woman’s voice or the slight tinge of disapproval when she had asked how _her_ boyfriend was doing. Hazelle had always been a great help with her mom and a safe place to run to and crash when things got difficult at home.

Peeta had put her life upside down without asking first.

“I really think she should call a doctor.” he continued, either not noticing she was giving him the silent treatment or not caring enough to let her sulk in peace. That would be like Peeta: he always needed to be on good terms with everyone. “What do you think?”

What did she think of Haymitch turning and tossing in bed for three days now? She thought they were getting behind on their training, that they had a federation official gala exhibition in a week, that Paris was less than a month away and that the World Championships would be there sooner than they would like and that they weren’t ready for any of that. She also completely understood Haymitch’s stern refusal to be brought to a hospital or to be examined by a doctor but, on the other hand, she was afraid Effie was running herself thin. She didn’t think their trainer had properly slept or eaten since Haymitch’s withdrawals had kicked in. She kept running from the rink to instruct them to her bedroom where he had crashed to check on him, and when she wasn’t doing either she was answering the phone, talking to sponsors and making arrangements for their career.

Effie was five minutes away from a nervous breakdown, that was what Katniss thought.

And that was what she texted to Prim instead of answering Peeta.

The boy studied her, his hands on his hips, waiting for her opinion.

“Look…” he sighed. “I said I was sorry a thousand times. Can we just… Can we try to discuss it like mature people?”

Her eyes briefly glared at him over her screen. “Are you saying I’m immature?”

He opened and closed his mouth. “I… No?”

He didn’t seem sure and Katniss glared harder, typing faster in irritation and relying to Prim just how much of an idiot he was despite her sister’s insistence that what he had done was _romantic_. There was _nothing_ romantic about it. _Johanna_ , at least, seemed to share her opinion. Granted the one and only text she had gotten from Mason had been more mocking than anything else but it had seemed to convey perfectly that Katniss wasn’t wrong to think what he had done _was_ ridiculous.

“Katniss…” Peeta winced. “I really just… I _meant_ it.”

“Just because you meant it doesn’t mean it was okay to talk about that in front of the whole country.” she hissed.

“I thought it would be a good publicity stunt.” he protested but then immediately lifted his hands. “I shouldn’t have, alright? I agree. And I’m sorry. Can you, _please_ , forgive me? We’re supposed to be a team. We _are_ a team and I need my partner. If you don’t feel anything for me, it’s… It’s _fine_. I won’t bother you with my own feelings, they’re my problem not yours. But can we be friends again?”

Her sulk deepened. She didn’t like being at odds with Peeta. Not only did it make training awkward but it felt like she was kicking a puppy every time she failed to answer him. And she did miss their friendship. It was lonely up there without Prim or Gale.

“Friends.” she repeated. “But you don’t do _anything_ again without telling me first.”

“Yes.” he beamed. “I promise.”

“Fine.” she grumbled, looking back down at her phone to appraise Prim of the latest development. “We can eat in here instead of the dining room.”

The dining room was huge like the rest of the house and sounds echoed. It was annoying enough when it was only the four of them but if Effie wasn’t coming to dinner it seemed ridiculous for the two of them to sit down at the mahogany table. Besides, the living-room had a TV and as much as she wasn’t a TV addict, it would fill any awkward silence.

They fetched their dinner and ate their mashed potatoes and green beans in front of a MasterChef rerun to Peeta’s delight. He kept commenting, sharing some anecdotes from the time he and his friend Delly had tried this or that dish, and she gradually found herself relaxing.

The show had been finished for a long time and they were mindlessly channel surfing when Effie staggered in the room, lacking her usual grace.

“Hello, children.” she smiled – and it was clearly forced. “I trust you had a pleasant evening?”

“How’s Haymitch?” Peeta immediately asked.

“Asleep.” she declared. “He is still running a fever but it seems to be under control right now. I don’t want you worrying about him, dear, focus on your training.” She sat in one of the armchairs, her back less straight than usual. Her fancy bun was disheveled and her dress was creased.

“Effie, he needs a doctor.” he insisted. “He needs a controlled environment for this. I know he doesn’t want to go to a hospital but…”

Katniss silently rolled her eyes. They had been having the same conversation for three days.

“He doesn’t want to go to the hospital, we’re not taking him to the hospital.” she cut in, not hiding her irritation. “He’s fine here. There’s no more liquor in the house. It’s controlled enough.”

They had poured everything down the drain. There was not a drop of alcohol left. They had searched every room and had disposed of the bottles of wine and whiskey – everything too expensive to be thrown away had been entrusted to a friend’s care by Effie.

“Yes…” their trainer added slowly. “We will do just fine by ourselves.”

Peeta shook his head but relented faced with their stubbornness. “You need sleep, Effie.”

She waved that thought away. “He will be better soon, I will sleep then. He might need me.”

He clearly wasn’t happy with that answer but Katniss just told him to drop it when he tried to insist. Effie was an adult, she could decide if she wanted to go to bed or not. They settled on a program and, barely five minutes later, Effie’s head rolled on the armchair’s back, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted.

“See.” Katniss triumphed. “Now she’s sleeping.”

“In an armchair where she will get a crick in the neck.” he countered, unwilling to admit he had been wrong.

“Well, at least she _is_ sleeping.” Katniss retorted, unwilling to _not_ have the last word.

“I guess.” he sighed.

They enjoyed twenty minutes of the show before a loud crash startled them all. Effie woke up with a small shriek and blinked, obviously confused. Katniss bolted to her feet, instinctively reaching for the closest weapon – AKA the TV remote, which, granted wouldn’t do much damage but she _could_ aim so she was betting on that – while Peeta took off in the direction of the noise with a “ _Haymitch”_.

Katniss and Effie followed close and both gasped when they spotted Haymitch lying on his stomach  at the bottom of the stairs. Peeta was already there, trying to make him hold still, but Haymitch didn’t want to listen. He seemed to be locked into some kind of delirium and pushed Peeta hard enough to make the boy fall before scrambling up.

“ _Burned_.” he was muttering under his breath. “They’re all burned. We’re all burning.”

“Haymitch!” Effie breathed out, brushing past Katniss and Peeta to grab their other trainer’s arm. “Haymitch, you need to calm down…”

He staggered on his feet, his grey eyes passing on Effie without truly seeing her.

“They’re burning.” he said. “Don’t you see them? I’m going to burn too… I’m going to…”

She placed her hand on his cheek. “Haymitch, look at me. _Look at me_. Nobody is burning.”

“Effie, be careful.” Peeta begged, grabbing the hand Katniss outstretched to get him on his feet. “He’s not lucid.”

“Yeah, they are!” Haymitch snarled. “Don’t you _see_ them? They’re coming… They’re coming for me…”

“Who?” Katniss asked. “Who’s coming for you?”

“The ghosts!” he spat. “I killed them and now they’re going to burn me alive!” He pushed Effie away and stumbled further down the hall. “I need booze…”

“No, you don’t.” Effie snapped. “It is in your head, Haymitch, everything is in your head.”

He stopped abruptly and turned on his heels, almost falling in the process. He had to reach for the wall to keep himself up but the way he advanced on Effie was threatening.

“Where’s the booze, Trinket?” he growled. “Where did you put the _fucking_ booze?”

“I threw it away.” she declared coldly, standing her ground.

It happened so fast neither Katniss nor Peeta had time to do anything. His hand wrapped around her throat and he lifted her up with impressive strength for someone who hadn’t eaten anything solid in three days. Katniss was the quickest to recover though and she swiftly placed herself between them, tugging on Haymitch’s arm but to no avail.

“You’re hurting Effie.” Peeta said, in an odd mix of panic and forced calm. “Haymitch, you’re _hurting_ _Effie_.”

Haymitch’s eyes wandered to Effie who was choking to Peeta and then back and he let go abruptly. Their trainer collapsed on the floor, panting and heaving, but Katniss didn’t make sure she was alright, unwilling to turn her back on Haymitch.

He didn’t seem to be a danger any longer though. He was looking at the hand he had used to strangle her with disgust and dread.

“I’m a killer.” he mumbled, dropping to his knees. “I’m a _fucking_ killer.”

“No…” Effie croaked, dragging herself closer to him. “You are just sick. You are not yourself.”

“I’m a killer and they will burn me alive.” he kept on muttering.

“I won’t let them.” Effie hissed, switching tactics by wrapping her arms around him. “Do you hear me? You are _safe_. I won’t let them. I won’t let _anyone_ hurt you. Ever. I promised, don’t you remember? I _promised_.”

His whole body was trembling now and Katniss was scared he was having some kind of seizure. She looked at Peeta but he seemed to be equally at a loss for what to do. Haymitch curled up on the floor, pressing his face against Effie’s legs.

“Make them stop.” he begged. “Make the flames stop…”

Effie ran her fingers in his hair with a sigh. “We should get you back to bed.” She looked up at Peeta who wordlessly walked closer and helped him up. Haymitch went willingly, as if the fight had deserted him. Katniss crouched next to Effie before she could get up, probing at her throat. Their trainer recoiled with a wince, pressing her hand against the battered skin. There were red finger marks on her flesh and it would probably bruise.

“I am fine.” Effie declared with a bright smile. “Nothing to worry about. Help me up, would you, dear?”

Despite hers or Peeta’s worried insistence that it might be best if she didn’t stay alone with him, Effie acted as if nothing at all had happened and sent them to bed.

Katniss hoped the situation would change soon.

°O°

_Haymitch’s tossing and turning woke her up but she didn’t immediately open her eyes, burrowing further down the bed instead. He had an annoying habit of rolling from one side to another when he couldn’t sleep and if her body had mostly grown used to it by now, there were still nights when he woke her up with his antics. It hadn’t been so long they had started sharing a bed after they had slept together._

_It’s when his elbow collided painfully against her back and he didn’t mutter any apology that she realized something was wrong. Still half-asleep, she listened to his distressed whimpering and she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes._

_He wasn’t so much tossing and turning as thrashing, his features contorted and his hands batting away at invisible enemies._ Nightmare _. She had read somewhere it wasn’t good to wake someone up from a nightmare – or was that about somnambulism? – so instead of shaking him awake she whispered his name again and again, softly placing her hand on his naked shoulder not to startle him._

_He jolted awake all the same at her touch, heavily panting, his eyes darting around the room. She gently rubbed his shoulder until he covered her hand with his, probably to signal her he was back in the real world. He didn’t look at her though, he swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress for the longest time, his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. She could still hear him gulping for breath._

_She watched the strong muscles of his back flex with each deep breath for a moment, retraced the line of his spine with her eyes, itching to explore that path with her lips, and she eventually moved closer. She hesitated, her hand hovering over his shoulder blade, and finally pressed her mouth there instead. He flinched but the tension in his shoulders faded a bit so she did again, trying to offer some comfort._

_“Not going to ask?” he sneered, his voice slightly shaking from the powerful nightmare._

_“You will tell me if you want to.” she hummed._

_“I want a drink.” he spat. “You’re going to fuck that out of me?”_

_She pursed her lips but didn’t call him out on his crudeness as she would have done at any other time. He was trying to provoke her into a fight and she wouldn’t play that game. She placed her hand on his back, scraping her nails against his skin a little._

_“If that is what you want.” she answered simply. He was clearly disappointed by the lack of fight she was offering but she pressed her lips at the base of his nape before he could get up and storm off to find liquor. She let her tongue poke at his skin in a gentle tease. “Is that what you want me to do?”_

_His shiver had less to do with the nightmare than with his body liking what she was offering, she thought._

_“My family’s charred corpses.” he muttered. “Blood on the ice. The guy I killed… They all want me to burn for what I did to them.”_

_She closed her eyes and allowed her pain to show on her face because his back was turned and he would never know._

_“It was just a nightmare.” she whispered, sliding her hands from his back to his sides and then to his stomach. She kneeled behind him and curled up over his back, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades._

_“Is it?” he scoffed. “Maybe Summercket has a point. You get a thrill out of fucking a killer?”_

_She didn’t pay his comment any mind. He was hurting. He always lashed out when he was hurting or stressed out._

_“You are not a killer…” she countered softly. It wasn’t the first time she had to remind him and she suspected it wouldn’t be the last._

_“Sure.” he scowled. “Maybe the ghosts have got a point. Maybe I deserve to burn alive…”_

_“Well, I would have something to say about_ that _.” she huffed. “I would like to see anyone try. Ghosts or not. None will go through me.”_

_“Oh, so you’ll protect me?” he snorted._

_“Human shield.” she declared. “You are my partner, are you not? You protect me and I protect you.” She nuzzled the space between his shoulder blades with her nose. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Haymitch, I promise.”_

_He reached out behind him to wrap an arm around her waist and flopped down on his back, drawing her close. “Tiny woman in heels for a bodyguard… What can go wrong?”_

_“Hush, now.” she grinned. “I will chase the nightmares out of your mind.”_

_“And how do you plan to do that, sweetheart?” He tossed her an unconvinced glance._

_She placed her lips on his chest, slowly kissing her way down, pausing to nibble on the skin below his navel, until she reached the waistband of his pajama pants. His breath caught – but for the right reasons now._

_“I have my ways.” she teased, before tugging the pants down._

°o°

The house was on fire and he screamed every time the flames licked his skin.

He never burnt though. Even when he could _see_ his skin bursting open with blisters, he never died. He was trapped in this mad delirium.

He knew it wasn’t real because Effie kept telling him but the _certainty_ it wasn’t real always faded after a few seconds.

He didn’t know how long it lasted.

Eventually, he stopped seeing nightmarish visions, his family’s burned bodies, the man he had killed, and the house taking flame…

Eventually, Effie’s constant presence and her soothing whispers started to make sense again. She forced fed him soup and water, ran damp clothes on his body and helped him into clean clothes… He felt _debilitated_. But he was so weak…

The first time he pushed her hand away when she tried to give him a sponge bath, muttering something about her not being a _fucking_ nurse, she wept with relief. It was such an un-Effie thing to do, he could only stare at her as she completely broke down.

There were dark bags under her eyes and fading bruises on her throat, and she cried and cried until he warily brushed his quivering fingers against her battered skin. Had he done that? He couldn’t remember. His whole body hurt. He didn’t remember when the nightmare had begun…

_Withdrawals_ , he thought belatedly, _I was in withdrawals_.

His brain was slow, sluggish, and for a terrible second, he was scared it would never work properly again.

She dropped kisses on his face. His forehead first, then his cheeks and then his mouth. It was barely a peck but it left him aching for something more, something _deeper_. Then she curled up against his side and it was good too.

“How long?” he frowned.

“Almost a week now.” she whispered. “I thought I had lost you for a moment.”

He had done humiliating things during those last days, he thought. And she had done things for him no woman should do for the man they loved – never mind the fact they were not a couple anymore.

“ _Fuck_.” he spat.

“Perhaps when you are recovered.” she joked, laughing through her tears.

It occurred to him a while later, after she had fallen into an exhausted sleep still snuggled up against him, that he was in her room, in her bed, and that it had been years since that had last happened. It also occurred to him when Peeta silently wandered in the bedroom without knocking that she was still too stubborn for her own good and that she hadn’t been taking care of herself at all. The boy looked relieved to see him awake and lucid and came back with some soup.

Haymitch’s throat was parched and he downed two glass of water. He went for a third but Peeta grabbed his wrist. “Easy. You’ve been sick a lot.”

He nodded, trying not to feel humiliated that _the kids_ saw him like that and obviously helped taking care of him. He ate the soup, growling when Peeta tried to _feed_ him. He insisted on handling the spoon himself even if his fingers were shaking so badly he had to focus hard to not miss his mouth. He stained the sheets a little but Effie blissfully slept through the whole thing.

“I don’t think she rested more than two hours at a time since you’ve been sick.” the boy whispered.

Once he was gone, Haymitch wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. It had been _so long_ since he had hold her in their sleep… And yet it still felt like second nature to watch out for the knee she would eventually hook over his hip and that sometimes crushed him less than pleasantly in the nuts. It was still automatic to bury his nose in her hair and to breathe her smell in. It was a reflex to cover the hand she placed on his chest with his own. There were things you never forgot 

When he woke up, she was gone.

His body felt drained of energy. He felt impossibly weak. He dragged himself to the bathroom and back, contemplating the idea of a shower only to reject it, knowing he would end up slumped on the tiled floor unable to get up.

Effie showed up not long after with a mug of hot tea and some yoghurt.

“You look awful.” he commented.

“I look better than you do.” she retorted with a bright smile.

At least, she seemed to be happy. She was humming and chatting and going from one corner of the room to the other, tidying up.

She left to supervise the children’s training but popped back at random times of the day to make sure he was alright. He was bored out of his mind but otherwise he felt better. He slept a lot.

“Do you want me to draw you a bath?” she asked that night.

“Are you getting in with me?” he snorted. “You love washing me so much… Let me have some fun out of it.”

Treating the days he had been sick as a joke was the only way he knew how to deal with the embarrassment.

She pursed her lips, hands on her hips, and narrowed her eyes at him. “If you are well enough to make one of your pitiful attempts at flirting, you are well enough to wash yourself.”

She still had to help him in and out of the bathtub and he tried not to resent her too much for that. He let out gibe on gibe about how it was unfair he was the only one naked and how she had been itching to get him out of his clothes since they had reunited. She humored him but he knew she was aware of what he was doing. She had changed the sheets while he was in the bath, he noticed later. She had also made no mention of him being well enough to go back to his own room. Most of his clothes seemed to have migrated to hers anyway…

He was already half asleep when she climbed into bed after having checked on the kids – who were, she informed him, watching TV again instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour – and there was no hesitation on her part when she burrowed her back against his chest and forcefully draped his arm around her. His forearm ended squashed between her breasts but he didn’t say anything. His body was too weak for it to be a problem anyway.

“You scared me terribly.” she whispered. “I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t bear the thought.”

“Told you I would win you back.” he mumbled against her nape. “Maybe I almost died in the process… Worth it anyway, sweetheart.”

“You never truly lost me, you idiotic man.” she hissed. “If I _ever_ catch you with a glass of alcohol again after what you put me through this week… I might _kill_ you. Consider this your one and only warning.”

He instinctively nuzzled her neck. “Don’t need booze when I have you.”

That might have been a little exaggeration but it pleased her all the same, he could tell.

“Try to remember it for a change.” she huffed.

He pressed a soft kiss on her neck instead of answering.

_As long as we don’t lose each other again…_


	16. Chapter 16

**_Haymitch_ ** _: R they ready 2 kill each other yet ?_

Effie rolled her eyes at her phone and glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to her.

**_Me_ ** _: They buried the hatchet. They are playing nice._

She placed her phone back in her small handbag and stole a flute of champagne from a passing tray, forcing a smile on her lips. The exhibition had been a tremendous success and Plutarch had already told her how happy he was with her children in particular. Funds and private investors were very interested this year and Peeta and Katniss were contributing to that. Those not yet convinced by the ice show would probably be by the reception. As usual it was a lavish affair with a gastronomic buffet, a dance floor completed with an orchestra, a lot of champagne and wealthy people ready to be begged and flattered for their money.

It was her scene.

She had been groomed for this kind of parties: how to act, what to say, how to catch people’s attention, faked laugh, faked smile, faked interested tilts of the head… She had sent the children away with the express order to _look inseparable_ and _be cute_ since that was the line they were going with. Last time she had checked, Katniss and Peeta were dancing – which was good. _She_ , on the other hand, needed to mingle, get re-acquainted with people she had lost touch with when she had left professional figure skating behind. But she was so tired…

She wished Haymitch was there with her.

He had barely been back on his feet when they had been forced to leave for the gala – something they couldn’t cancel and which the children couldn’t attend on their own. He had been feeling better, making short trips downstairs and reading instead of just sleeping all day. It had been out of the question for him to come with them but leaving him alone for two days was a source of anxiety for her even with Sae there to keep an eye on things. What if he had a relapse? What if they had overlooked some liquor and he found it? What if he needed something as a matter of emergency and no one was there to help?

And, admittedly, aside for that, she was _exhausted_. Almost a week of next to no sleep, coaching alone and anxiously searching _google_ for withdrawals symptoms, possible complications and advices had left her dead on her feet. She loved parties but, right now, all she truly wanted was to crash in a bed and sleep for a whole week.

Her golden clutch bag buzzed and she fished her phone out again.

**_Haymitch_ ** _: Kids’ dancing is painful 2 watch._

She frowned and glanced in the direction of the dance floor. Peeta and Katniss were attempting to waltz but clearly didn’t know the steps. They seem to be having fun though and people were either paying no attention or gushing over how cute they were.

Then her frown deepened.

**_Me_ ** _: How do you know?_

The answer came so fast she didn’t even have time to put her phone away.

**_Haymitch_ ** _: I have eyes everywhere._

She looked around, half expecting to find him standing there in a suit that would most likely not be formal enough for event but she couldn’t find him.

**_Me:_ ** _Where are you?_

**_Haymitch:_ ** _Home. Live feed. K s sis sent link 4 me._

**_Haymitch:_ ** _Nice kid.  Thinks I’m bored._

Her eyes caught the cameras and she swallowed back a sigh. Why would they keep a live feed of a reception? She didn’t let herself ponder the question too long. Plutarch had odd ideas about how the federation should work even though it seemed to work.

**_Haymitch:_ ** _AM bored. Sext me._

She didn’t gratify that with an answer, placing her phone back in her clutch. _Home_ , he had said. It left a pleasant content warm feeling in her stomach. She didn’t think he had used the word on purpose but it felt good to know he considered Aspen to be his home.

“Are you going to check your phone all night or do I get a dance?”

She greeted Finnick with a  grin. “You will get a dance if you ask nicely like the gentleman I know you are.”

“Then I formerly request your hand for a dance.” the young man answered with a small bow, taking hold of her fingers and dragging her to the dance floor.

He was an exquisite dancer and she followed his lead.

“You were very good earlier.” she complimented. His and Johanna’s performance had been less breathtaking than usual and had clearly aimed at not straining her ankle too much but it had been more about _being there_ so no one forced their hand to forfeit in the World Championships in favor of Cato and Clove, she figured. “Where is your partner? And where is Mags? I don’t think I saw her yet…”

Finnick shook his head. “Jo went back to the hotel. She was tired and those parties are not really her scene, you know? Mags stayed home, she wasn’t feeling well. Annie’s with her.” The seriousness on his face soon turned into a bright smile. “But _I_ am here representing the team and getting my ass groped by old ladies who think I’m a gigolo.”

She could remember a time when sponsors and federation officials alike had thought betting money on them meant they were free to put their hands on her. It had been an usual occurrence back when she was still with Seneca. Less so with Haymitch. Nobody wanted to inappropriately touch her when there was a former hockey player glowering right next to her. Somehow, _then_ , people learned some respect. But as soon as he left her side she was fair game again.

It was part of the game though, she knew that. And Finnick knew it too.

“Is Mags alright?” she asked, a little worried.

“She says she’s just old and it’s normal to be tired. Annie will take care of her.” Finnick shrugged while still leading her in time with the music. “Where’s _your_ co-trainer? And more importantly, if you’re here alone can you be my escort?”

She chuckled at his eagerness and granted that last request with a nod. “Haymitch has been under the weather lately. He is resting.”

“Ah, alcohol problems?” the boy inquired, lifting his eyebrows. She glared and he quickly wince. “That’s what everyone’s saying behind the scene, Effie. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“He is sober.” she hissed. “Not that it is anyone’s business. But if anyone asks you can tell them he _is_ sober.”

“ _Mags_ will be happy to know. She was worried.” he declared. “Look, I’m sorry… I really didn’t mean…”

“It is fine.” she bristled. The song came to an end and she left the dance floor, leaving him to follow her. She checked her phone again, not surprised to find a few texts waiting there.

**_Haymitch:_ ** _No sexting? U no fun._

**_Haymitch:_ ** _Nice dress, sweetheart._

**_Haymitch:_ ** _Not yours._

**_Haymitch:_ ** _Why R U looking all grumpy now? Loosen your corset. Have a drink._

**_Haymitch:_ ** _UR dancing with peacock. Young 4 U no?_

**_Haymitch:_ ** _UR a cougar._

She didn’t answer him: it was rude to spend all your time on the phone when you were at a party and he should know better than to harass her. He should also mind his grammar. He was texting like a twelve years old.

“I’m jealous of whoever can make you smile like that.” Finnick teased.

“How is Annie?” she asked pointedly.

“Lovely as ever.” he replied without missing a beat. “She is the love of my life but you are my tragic doomed love story.”

He was just joking and Effie found herself relaxing.

“Let’s go mingle.” she suggested. “I will protect you from old ladies’ wandering hands and you can glare when businessmen try to accidentally put their hands were they don’t belong.”

Finnick was easy to please. He grinned at her and offered his arm. “Deal.”

°O°

_“What are you doing hiding out there?” Effie asked, slipping through the sliding doors leading to the balcony. “Have you had your share of socializing already?”_

_Haymitch remained stretched on one of the lounge chairs and stared at the night sky as he so often did – one of the only things he liked about the Aspen house was the clear sky watching opportunities – not even glancing at her._

_The party had been Elindra’s idea naturally. A few big sponsors, big names in the figure skating field, possible partners to replace him by whose hints Effie had thoroughly ignored all evening, some business people who may or may not be friends with Tadius – hard to say the man had fled to his office after half an hour – and a few “close” friends – although Haymitch and the Trinkets clearly didn’t have the same definition of the term._

_He hated the theatric aspect of it, the need to pretend to be someone else to impress or to sell something. Out there, they were on display. A product to be bought: Fire and Ice, World champions._

_In the last two years, he had grown used to that. There were parties and official events, cocktails and galas and meetings with fans… Publicity campaigns and photoshoots…_

_He brought his glass of whiskey to his lips and took a sip, ignoring her disapproving look just like he more generally ignored_ her _. He didn’t want to play that game. Not tonight._

_“Haymitch.” she frowned, folding her arms in front of her chest. The red dress wasn’t exactly made for the weather and she must have been cold outside. He loved that dress. He had bought it for her on a whim. “You are being rude.”_

_“Too_ fucking _bad.” he snorted._

_She pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side in annoyance. “What has gotten into you?”_

_He took another sip before answering, his voice cold and flat. “Maybe I’m tired of watching those fifty-something pigs grab your ass every time they think they can get away with it.”_

_“Oh.” she said softly, unfolding her arms to come and sit on the edge of his lounge chair. “Well, I am not enjoying it, you know.”_

_“Yeah, I know.” he granted. “Doesn’t mean I like it. And the dragon’s going to have an aneurism if I punch someone so… Let me cool down, sweetheart. Go back to your ass kissing.”_

_She enjoyed this sort of parties even if that meant some inevitable groping. She was queen of the bees._

_He didn’t get it._

_A crowded or not so crowded bar, some good music, a few drinks, and Chaff. That was his idea of a party. Maybe watching Effie kick someone’s ass at pool, preferably a guy twice her size who had thought she would be an easy prey.._

_“But I miss you.” she pouted._

_He finally looked at her. His eyes never shifted from hers as he downed his glass._

_“I’m going to beat the next one to a pulp.” he warned in a low growl._

_She sighed. “They_ are _disgusting men but… There is nothing I can do save making a scene and you know as I do that it is not an option.”_

_“Right.” he snarled “’Cause the dragon will spend two hours putting you down tomorrow instead of just one. She would whore you out if it helped her get what she wants.”_

_He hated Elindra. He hated her with a_ passion _._

_“I wish you wouldn’t talk about her like this.” she murmured sadly. “She loves me.”_

_“That’s not love.” he snapped. “_ I _…”_

_He stopped short and looked away but she placed her hand on his cheek, tossed a discreet glance to check nobody was lurking, and pressed a kiss on his lips._

_“I know.” she promised against his mouth. “I know. But_ they _don’t so they think it is acceptable.”_

_“So what?” he spat. “When I put a ring on your finger they’ll magically stop?” He scoffed. “Don’t be_ naïve _, sweetheart. They’ll keep on grabbing and groping and drooling all over you. You’re young and hot. What do you think they fantasize about when they jerk off? And what if_ some _of them stop because you’ve got a ring on? They stop ‘cause you_ belong _to me? Like the ring’s a_ fucking _cattle brand? How_ sick _is that?”_

_She made a face, clearly disapproving of his way of expressing his opinion on the matter, but amusement quickly replaced her annoyance and after another glance at the sliding doors, she inched her dress up to straddle his hips. The balcony gave to the back of the house and the party was taking place downstairs, guests rarely wandered upstairs but it was still a risk to take._

_“When you put a ring on my finger I will use the huge diamond to stab their hands.” she purred, deftly unbuttoning his shirt halfway, the charms of her silver bracelet sometimes getting caught in the buttons. “I will also remind anyone with wandering hands that my husband is a former hockey player who can probably bash their head open in a heartbeat. They don’t need to know you would not.”_

_He didn’t know when the engagement discussion had become a “when” and not an “if”. They had agreed they would talk about it_ after _the Olympic Games but it felt less and less like there was anything to discuss. He wanted her and he wanted her long term. He didn’t particularly need a wedding for that but if she wanted one, he would give her one._

_“But I would.” he sneered. “I_ will _if they don’t stop pawing at you.”_

_“I like you protective.” she hummed, pressing kisses against his neck, letting her fingers roam on the uncovered skin of his chest._

_“Don’t start something you won’t finish.” he warned._

_“Who says I won’t finish…” she smirked, pressing down on him on purpose._

_His hands shot to her hips, stopping her._

_“I don’t need to fuck you to know you’re mine.” he grumbled. “It’s not a jealousy thing.”_

_It was a ‘stop putting your dirty paws on girls thirty years younger like you’re entitled to it’ thing. It was a ‘she’s a person not a fuck toy doll’ thing. And,_ yeah _, maybe underneath there was a bit of possessiveness but was it so wrong when those people were treating her like a piece of meat?_

_“I know.” she granted, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart. She had a thing about that: feeling his heartbeat. “I suppose this is the price of being a famous athlete, of being a victor. They will paw at you and treat you like you are some sort of not-human being…”_

_She shifted so she was sitting on his lap instead of straddling him, leaning against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, propping his chin on her heavily styled puffy hair. He didn’t like it when she looked so dolled up. To him, she was at her most beautiful at the end of a training day, when her eyes were bright, her cheeks red and her hair was all over the place._

_“We can always skip the party.” he suggested._

_“They will come hunt us down.” she replied mournfully._

_If they were lucky it would be Mags. If they were less lucky it would be Elindra._

_“Olympics are in two months.” he sighed. “When that’s done, I’m taking you away. We’ll take a holiday. Just you and me. Somewhere no one knows us and we can be left in peace.”_

_“Will that be a honeymoon?” she teased._

_“So eager to put a ring on my finger, Princess…”_

°O°

Haymitch was dozing off on his book when he heard the _ping_ announcing he had a new text. He checked the alarm clock on the bedside table and rubbed his eyes, musing it was probably time for him to turn in anyway. He felt better but he was still abnormally tired. His body felt like it was weighting entirely too much, he had no will to do anything… Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was dying to get into town and have a proper drink…

He was enjoying the respite from having to train the kids. He would have had too if they hadn’t gone to this gala. He couldn’t very well eat Effie’s food and sleep under her roof and not earn his keep.

He reached for the phone he had left on the bedside table with the bottle of water and the almost untouched plate Sae had fixed for him. He had put crumbs in the bed and Effie would go berserk when she would be back. He didn’t know if she wanted him to move back to his own room or not. They were dancing on a thin line. She said she had forgiven him but he wasn’t sure she was ready to let go of the past yet. He wasn’t sure _he_ was. They hadn’t talked about it – and they wouldn’t if he had anything to say about that – but he figured whatever they were doing they were taking it _slow_ , building back _trust_. He was hoping going to Paris would help with that.

The phone felt heavy and unfamiliar in his hand. He hated the thing. Katniss and Peeta had forced him to get one after two weeks of training, claiming he was never within reach and that _everyone_ had a cell phone those days except for hippies.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _We are back at the hotel._

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _The children sneaked out to go partying with Finnick and Johanna. It is insulting they think I don’t know._

He snorted. The kids tended to forget they had been young once too. He switched off the light and settled down against the pillow, the room only lit by the soft glow of his phone screen.

**_Me :_ ** _do I get sexting now?_

The answer was immediate as if she had been waiting for his text. He wondered if she was in bed too. His imagination painted a pretty picture of blonde hair spread on a white pillow, a light pink nightgown that fell low on her cleavage, one leg bent at the knee and the other stretched out…

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _Absolutely not._

He smirked.

**_Me :_ ** _Cause U can’t handle it?_

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I can ‘handle’ it just fine if you recall._

He chuckled, more or less instinctively breathing in her perfume on the pillow under his head. He had missed it. She was still using the same brand of fruity shampoo after all those years and the pillowcase smelt like that. It was so painfully familiar, it made his stomach contract and churn. He had spent years avoiding that smell.

**_Me :_ ** _Long time ago. Maybe you became a prude._

He could call her, he mused, but there was something _easy_ to this exchange of texts. The teasing was light, simply that. And any phone call would be clogged by questions about his health and would inevitably switch to the children… He didn’t mind talking about the kids but that wasn’t what he wanted at the moment.

He had spent all evening watching the live feed on the official site, thanks to Prim’s thoughtfulness, searching for a glimpse of her in the background. She had looked so gorgeous in that ridiculous frilly blue dress… She always had an out of the box fashion sense. He used to taunt her all the time about it.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _You shall have to wait and see._

It was the second time she had made a veiled reference to that. They had been sharing a bed for the last few nights but nothing at all had happened – which was for the best because he didn’t think he would have been able to hold up to anything really. He was happy to hold her at night. She had always been one of the best deterrents to nightmares. He was dreading having to sleep without her.

He hesitated, distractedly tapping on the side of the phone with his still shaky finger.

_**Me :** Long?_

He waited but the reply didn’t come. At some point he started drifting off and the phone slipped from his fingers. It was the _ping_ of an incoming text that woke him up.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I don’t know._

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I do want what he had back, Haymitch, but we are different people now._

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I am wary you will disappear on me again. I trust you but I am not sure I trust you that far if it makes sense._

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I am sorry._

He typed without even thinking.

**_Me :_ ** _Fair enough._

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t been expecting.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I do not want things to be awkward between us. Please understand… I do not mean I don’t want to try. I just…_

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I know the attraction is still there and I know sex will be amazing. It always was. But… I want more. And we should build that first this time around._

He let out a small sigh.

**_Me :_ ** _It’s fine, Princess. U don’t need 2 explain._

The phone chimed before he even had time to put it down. 

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _Yes, I do. I don’t want you to misunderstand._

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I want us._

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I very much want us._

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _But there are still so many things I don’t understand… I don’t understand what went wrong last time. You are being cryptic._

He sighed again. She would _never_ let that go.

**_Me :_ ** _Rule 1._

The small bubble indicating she was typing appeared but he didn’t have to wait long.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I don’t understand. What were you protecting me from? You? Because you had a glass of whiskey before the free program? Because I was angry?_

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _I don’t understand!_

The screen lighted up right after and the picture of her he had stolen during one of the training sessions with the kids appeared. He stared at it, waiting for the call to go to voicemail.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _Haymitch…_

The hand holding the phone dropped on the bed and he stared at the ceiling, contemplating what to say and not to say. His decision seemed stupid now in regard of everything that had happened. A _fucking_  waste.

**_Me :_ ** _U wanted gold. I wanted U._

She tried to call again but he didn’t pick up.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _We BOTH wanted gold!_

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _We can’t have this discussion through texts._

It was texting or not talking about it at all though.

**_Me :_ ** _I wanted gold but I wanted U more._

**_Me :_ ** _U were enough 4 me. WE were enough 4 me._

**_Me :_ ** _Couldn’t be 2nd best. U wanted gold. Couldn’t give that to U._

He rubbed his eyes, trying to find the right words…

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _Oh my god_

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _Are you saying you left because you thought a gold medal was more important than you? Are you saying you were jealous of a piece of metal?_

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _You were threatened by my AMBITION?????_

If she resorted to capitals, she must have been angry. He wanted a drink. He desperately wanted a drink.

**_Me :_ ** _I left cause U’d never have left me. I left so U could go out there and be an Olympic champion with a  partner who knew what they were doing._

**_Me :_ ** _U had no chance of gold with me._

The bubble indicating she was writing appeared and then disappeared.

In for a penny, he thought.

**_Me :_ ** _I left cause Ur dream was gold. Mine was U. Didn’t match. U deserved more. U deserved everything._

**_Me :_ ** _U still do…_

He waited for a reply for the longest time. Every time the screen went dark he tapped on it to light it up again but the bubble with the three dots never appeared. Eventually his battery died and he fell asleep.

He wasn’t good at keeping track of his phone.

He only remembered to plug it in around noon the next day and only because he was wondering at what time they were all coming back.

The first thing that greeted him when his phone switched back on was her name on the locked screen and a simple sentence.

**_Harpy on Ice :_ ** _You are an idiot._


	17. Chapter 17

Peeta pushed on, speeding up, if only to leave the sound of bickering behind. Clearly on the same mind, Katniss caught up, adjusting her pace on his.

“Next time they’re going for a jog in the woods, we’re sticking to the gym.” she grumbled.

“That’s what we say every day.” he sighed. “Bright side: we’ve never run so fast.”

Ever since they had come back from the gala, Effie had seemed of a mind to wipe Haymitch back in shape – or to _torture_ him, that was anyone’s guess. Every morning, she forced him out of bed and out for a run, she forced him to train in the gym with them, she didn’t relent until he had put on skates and was standing on the rink with her…

And Haymitch, of course, grumbled and snapped and snarled and sneered and fought her at every turn. They were back to endless arguments, snide comments and gibes. Peeta thought Haymitch had yet to leave her room for his own but he thought it was just an excuse to keep fighting late into the night until one of them dropped from exhaustion.

He was still not sure Haymitch should be exercising himself that much after such a terrible episode for his body but the only time he had ventured a comment to help his trainer’s case, Effie has snapped that she had done researches, that it was a very good way to distract oneself from the cravings and to build back muscles strength, and that she knew what she was doing – _thank you_ _very much_ , _Peeta._ Haymitch for some reason and despite his protests, seemed to be undergoing some sort of penance act. Whatever Effie wanted – and as much as he was going to argue about it – he eventually submitted.

“Are you excited about Paris?” he asked.

_He_ was. He had never been to another country before and it was _Paris_. The food, the city, the foreignness of it all… He _couldn’t_ wait.

The competition would be tough – a first taste of what the World Championships would be even though Marvel and Glimmer who were the favorite pair weren’t competing – but he was certain it would also be tremendous fun. Finnick and Jo were going and there were worse people to be around. He wasn’t sure Katniss had enjoyed the lot of them sneaking out to a club after the gala but she _certainly_ had enjoyed bickering with Jo until early morning.

“I don’t know.” she shrugged. “It’s far.” She paused for a second and shrugged again. “Prim wants pictures.”

“We’ll go sightseeing.” he grinned. “Competition is on two days plus the exhibition closing gala on the third and Effie booked for a five days stay. We’ll have time.”

Effie had declared it was a crime to go to Paris and not _visit_ even if they had to lose a day of training for it.

“ _You_ ’re excited.” Katniss remarked.

The house came into view and they quickened their pace again even though they had long left their trainers behind.

“Come on, it’s _Paris_!” he exclaimed.

“Does it have to do with all those old movies you like so much?” she teased. “Or is it because your favorite Disney is _Ratatouille_?”

He had been determined to fill the gaps in her cinematic culture. They had movie nights at least twice a week, sometimes more often than that. Classics, old movies, new movies, Disney movies… Effie’s dvds collection was extensive and what he couldn’t find on the shelves he either downloaded or streamed.

She had been reluctant at first but now she was really getting into it. Haymitch and Effie joined them sometimes. It was a team bonding activity he particularly enjoyed. It felt like what having a family ought to be like.  

“What’s not to like in _Ratatouille?_ ” he replied with a bright smile. “It’s a rat who cooks.”

Katniss shook her head, an answering smile playing on her lips. She was doing that more often lately. Smiling. And he liked it. She was more relaxed around him, less guarded.  

They checked behind them as they reached the house but there was no sign of Effie and Haymitch.

“Maybe he killed her and he’s burying her body in the woods.” she deadpanned.

“Maybe it’s the other way around.” he joked. “Let’s hit the gym before they arrive and make it impossible to focus.”

He hooked his ipod to the speakers system while she started stretching. She was working on her flexibility this week as per Haymitch’s request. He tried not to stare too much as he grabbed the weights and started working on his arms strength.

When the first few notes of music boomed up, she lifted her head and stared at him with _obvious_ amusement. She was bent in two, her chest pressed against her thighs. “A Disney playlist, _really_?”

“ _Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities…”_ he sang – very badly.

She burst out laughing, shaking her head harder.

She started humming distractedly along to _Hercules_ ’ _Gospel Truth_ as she worked and kept it up during _We are one_ and Peeta was less focused on the weights he was lifting than on her. It wasn’t until _Mulan_ ’s _Reflection_ that she started to truly sing. She didn’t seem to realize what she was doing. She was still stretching, watching what she was doing in the floor to ceiling mirror that covered up one entire wall, but suddenly she was singing – not just humming or muttering but _singing_.

The weights hung limply from his hands.

It was like the Earth had stopped turning, like everything had come to a standstill.

He was certain that if there had been birds in the room they would have stopped chirping to listen.

If there had still been any doubts he was in love before, there certainly were none now.

She sang along to _Colors of the Wind_ too, completely covering the soundtrack – not that Peeta minded.

He was so utterly under her spell, he decided there was some truth to mermaids legends. At that moment, he could absolutely understand why someone who jump from a ship to go drown at the bottom of the sea because of a voice.

“We’re prepping for a skate competition or for a musical number?” Haymitch grumbled, walking in the room with a sulk on his face.

Katniss abruptly fell silent, blinking fast as if she hadn’t truly realized what she had been doing.

She hadn’t sung since her father’s death. She had told him that.

He was suddenly very angry against Haymitch who headed to one of the machines without even pausing to think about what he had just done – not that he would _know_ , Peeta figured.

“What’s that _crap_?” he frowned. “Why you kids can’t listen to some real music for a change?”

“Because what you call _real_ music has been out of fashion for decades, Haymitch.” Effie retorted, stepping in the gym with bottles of water.

Katniss glanced at him and Peeta flashed her a small smile. She smiled back a little hesitantly.

°O°

Effie hurried on the path from the house to the rink.

She didn’t mind taking care of schedules and the administrative part of coaching, she was good with paperwork, but she was a little anxious to talk to Haymitch. They were simply rehearsing the free program those days. All the routines were ready for Paris, it was just a matter of practicing.

Yet when she entered the rink she wasn’t expecting laughter.

Peeta and Katniss were practicing some new lifts on the ice, and, standing next to the sound system…

“Chaff!” she exclaimed in surprise.

The children didn’t pay her any mind, obviously lost in a world of their own, but the two men turned in her direction.

“He was in Aspen.” Haymitch said, almost defensively. “I told him to drop by.”

They were wary around each other nowadays, either tentative or confrontational. There was never any middle-ground. Ever since his texts… She had always known Haymitch had stupid tendencies to think she would be better off without him but truly this was _taking the cake_. Assuming she wanted a gold medal more than she wanted him… Assuming _he_ was the problem… Assuming _leaving_ _her_ was the solution…

The worst was that she believed him when he said he had done it _for her_ , so she could achieve her dream.

_What a waste…_

“Sorry to show up like that, love.” Chaff added.

“Do not be silly!” She waved that away, placing a hand on his shoulder to press a kiss on his cheek. “You are always welcomed here and I am happy to see you.”

“Can’t say you’re not a sight for sore eyes.” he replied, always the charmer.

She grinned. “Where are you staying? Not at a hotel, I hope. You are welcome here, of course.”

“Thanks, love, but I need to get back in town sometimes tonight.” he said. “Need to keep an eye on my boys.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Your boys? Now I _am_ curious. What are you doing nowadays?”

“Hockey coach.” Haymitch supplied.

“That’s what you do when you’re no good to play anymore.” Chaff snorted, waving his left hand in front of her face – or what had been his left hand rather, the arm ended on a mass of scarred tissues. The horror she felt staring at the stump must have showed on her face because he started chuckling “Not so pretty, right? Stupid accident. Fell on the ice and that guy came skating past right over my wrist. Cut a few fingers and mangled my hand so bad there was no gluing it back.”

“I… I am sorry.” she faltered. “I didn’t know.”

“Water under the bridge.” he shrugged.

She recovered quickly, forcing a smile on her lips. She glanced at Haymitch for help but he looked happy to watch her suffer.

“Well, you are at least staying for dinner.” she declared. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“When did you ever?” Haymitch scoffed.

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pursed and her head tilting to the right. “ _Hush_.”

“Make me.” he challenged.

Chaff’s laughter boomed out, bouncing back against the wall of the rink, making the children look at them curiously. “Good to know some things don’t change.”

“Things _do_ change.” Effie retorted.

“No with the two of you.” he insisted, shooting a meaningful look at Haymitch who simply bristled and mumbled something about ‘ _fucking_ meddlesome friends’. “Still about to jump each other every two seconds.”

“I can assure you I am not about to _jump on Haymitch_ as you say.” she huffed, but glanced at her partner. “I do have some matter to discuss with you though.”

He rolled his eyes. “What does Plutarch want now?”

She frowned. “How do you know it has to do with Plutarch?”

“Always does.” he grumbled.

Chaff rubbed his stump against his mouth, probably to hide a smile. She was suddenly reminded of just how annoying the two of them were together.

“There is a charity gala around two weeks after Paris.” she explained. “And…”

“That’s a month away from the World Championships.” he cut her off. “It’s fine. Tell him the kids will do it. We can do the gala program from Paris.”

She folded her arms over her chest, watching him with annoyance. “I wish you would let me finish my sentences sometimes. If you hadn’t interrupted you would know it is not the children he wished to recruit.”

“Oh, boy.” Chaff snickered, catching up a second faster than Haymitch.

“ _No way_.” Haymitch spat. “No _fucking_ way, Effie.”

“It is only a charity gala…” she countered, a tiny whine in her voice. “It doesn’t need to be some extravagant piece…” 

“You want to skate, find yourself a partner.” he snapped. “ _Hell_ , use Peeta. Or Odair. I bet the kid will jump at the chance.”

“Neither of them is my partner, Haymitch. _You_ are.” she argued. “And it’s for a good cause. Don’t you care at all?”

“What cause?” Chaff asked.

Her eyebrows twitched in irritation. “I didn’t ask.”

“Of course not.” the former hockey player chortled. “Forgot how selfish you are, love.”

“Well, _I_ didn’t forget how _rude_ _you_ are.” she retorted, barely sparing him a glance. She grabbed Haymitch’s hand. “ _Please_.”

“No.” he growled.

“Haymitch…” she pleaded.

“Said _no_. What’s so hard to grasp about that?” he shouted, shrugging her grip off. “Don’t you’ve got a brain in that head of yours?”

She flinched and the children suddenly stopped talking and laughing in their corner, to stand there frozen. Effie and Haymitch were glaring at each other and Chaff patted both of their shoulders.

“Mommy and Daddy shouldn’t fight in front of the kids.” he joked. “You’re disturbing them.”

Haymitch glanced at the children and then stormed out, bumping into her in the process.

“He is _insufferable_.” she hissed, levering a serious gaze on Katniss and Peeta. “Practice your routine. Chaff will supervise.”

“’Cause I’m an expert in figure skating.” he chuckled. “ _Fuck_ , love, I missed you and your _fantastic_ logic.”

“Language.” She clicked her tongue before taking off after Haymitch. She had expected to have to search the whole estate to find him but, in the end, she didn’t have to go far. He was sitting on the two steps leading up to the rink doors. “I do not see why you are being so stubborn.”

“I’m not doing it. You can save your speech.” he grumbled. “How long have you been planning this? The training and the _let’s get you back on skates, Haymitch_ … That was your master plan all along? Drag me back into _that?_ ”

“Of course _not_.” she huffed. “Although I will admit I hoped an opportunity would arise.”

“For _fuck_ ’s sake…” he started for what would, no doubt, be a long rant full of sneering and insulting comments.

“I want to skate with you.” she interrupted him softly. “Last time… The last time didn’t feel like the last time. I don’t remember our last kiss. I don’t remember the last time we slept together. But I _do_ remember the last time we skated together.” She took a deep breath and looked away. She supposed it was always like this with any relationship. You never knew it would the last time because at some point you just started taking everything for granted. “The crowd stood up and cheered for us, they screamed our names… I know because I have watched the tapes _so many times_. But at the time… At the time there was only _you_ , and _us_ , and this suffocating fear that you would really do it, that you would really _leave_ … Do you know what I thought? I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought after everything you had finally realized that Mother was right. I thought…”

“Stop.” he requested. “Please… _Stop_.”

“I never believed it.” she continued anyway. “When the music ended. I didn’t believe it was over.”

“Now you’re going for emotional blackmail.” he accused.

“I am not trying to…” He was missing the point so completely that she sighed. “Why _not_? We do not need to do anything overly complicated. It can be simple.”

Grey eyes bore into hers, wistful and a little sad. “Sweetheart, there are mornings I can’t even hold my spoon.” He outstretched his hand in front of them. The tremors weren’t bad that day but his fingers were still quivering a little. He closed his fist. “It can’t work.”

“Yes, it can.” she vowed. “We just have to…”

“I can’t do any fancy lifting. I won’t risk you like that. And I’m so rusty on skates, it’s a _joke_.” he scowled. “And you can’t tell me your knee isn’t a problem. You can’t even kick a double axel anymore… We’re _old_ , Effie.”

“We are middle-aged, we are not fossils.” she scorned. “We have some time until the gala. You are stronger already. If we keep training with the children, we will be back in shape in no time. And you are selling yourself short as usual. You have been skating every day since you have arrived in Aspen…”

“Being on the ice on skates and _skating_ are two different things. You should know.” he argued. “Besides, we should focus on the kids, Effie.”

“This wouldn’t impact on their training!” she insisted. “We can practice after they are done… We have some lifts that don’t require much participation from you… I can do all the difficult work. It could be an artistic performance instead of a technical one. _Please_.”

“Effie…” he sighed.  

She leaned in and pressed a kiss against his neck. “Please…” she breathed out against his skin. She pressed another kiss a little higher and another just under his jaw line. “ _Please_ , Haymitch…” Her lips wandered to his stubble covered cheek and she brushed them against his cheekbone. “I want to skate with you again.” Her mouth hovered over his a little. “Please…”

“You’re cheating.” he complained.

“Is it working?” she asked, not bothering to deny the accusation. “Or should I convince you further?”

“Should hold you up to that.” he snorted.

She placed her hand on his cheek, regretting not having thought to put on gloves because it was _freezing_ , and she closed in the space between them. Their lips were hesitant at first, it felt both familiar and foreign, but they soon found a new rhythm. The kiss was tamed for them, gentle almost. _Tentative_.

“Fine.” he mumbled when she leaned back.  “But for the record, that’s a poor excuse of a kiss.”

“This is our first kiss in fifteen years and you criticize it.” She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised? You are the man who killed romance.”

“We’re rusty at that too.” he smirked, leaning in again. “We need practice…”

She drew back and bolted on her feet with a sweet innocent smile on her lips. “ _The children_ need to practice and your friend need to be entertained.”

“You’re a _bloody_ tease.” he accused. She didn’t bother denying that either.

Chaff, of course,  didn’t need Haymitch to entertain him, the whole situation seemed to delight him. They had barely stepped back inside the rink that his best friend started laughing in earnest. “She got you to say yes, didn’t she? You’re _fucking_ whipped for that woman, buddy.”

Nobody denied that either.

Having Chaff around certainly made things more lively. The children took to him easily and spent all dinner quizzing him about Haymitch and Effie. The stories and anecdotes the man could muster often left her sighing and hurriedly switching topics. Katniss and Peeta were clearly enjoying learning about their wild youth.

After dinner, once the children scampered to the upstairs living-room they had claimed as theirs to watch a movie – she thought she heard the word _Ratatouille_ being thrown around – she left Haymitch and Chaff to reminisce in peace. The boys were having fun. Haymitch was relaxed and laughing, almost carefree, and it didn’t happen often enough for her to spoil his pleasure. She retreated to the office for a little while to work through some of the paperwork for their trip to Paris and then eventually wandered to the balcony with a mug of herbal tea, a lovely pink and white woolen shawl draped around her shoulders.

She was halfway through her mug when she heard the door sliding open and shut behind her. She turned around and automatically smiled at Chaff.

“I’m heading back.” he said. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

She accepted the hug, batting his hand away with amusement when it wandered too low.

“I suppose some things do _not_ change after all.” she commented.

“Well, you’re still hot.” he winked. “Can’t blame a guy for trying his luck.”

“Why, _thank you_. What a _charming_ compliment.” she commented, shaking her head at him. “Drive safely. And don’t be a stranger. You are welcomed back any time. It was good to see you.”

“You too.” he said and then turned to leave.

She turned too, leaning her elbows against the wooden banister to watch the peaceful night once again. She heard the door sliding open but it didn’t close.

“Effie…” he said and she glanced over her shoulder, frowning when he slid the door shut again – to prevent their conversation from being overheard, she thought. “What’s going on between you and Haymitch?”

She averted her eyes and looked out over the balcony again despite the fact it was simply bad manners to turn your back on someone. She took a sip of her now lukewarm tea.

“If he had wanted you to know…” she ventured.

“Didn’t ask.” he cut her off. “Didn’t dare. He’s _fucking_ sober. Good honest _sober_. He’s… _good_. He’s actually making jokes that aren’t all sarcastic. He’s not wallowing in his misery. He’s really into that training thing. He’s _fucking_ doing good. You know the last time I saw him like _this_?”

“I can surmise it had been a long time.” she sighed.

“ _You_ did this.” he insisted.

“I did nothing.” she protested. “He was already training the children when I joined the team and I simply asked him to keep the drinking to a minimum, he took the decision to plunge into sobriety himself.”

“Please.” Chaff scoffed. “We both know _why_ he did _that_. He wants you back and he thinks you deserve better than a drunkard.”

“Don’t call him by that _vile_ name.” she growled, sparing a glare for him over her shoulder.

He waved his stump to dismiss her words. “He crashed and burned last time. I’m worried about what’s going to happen _this_ time once you’re done playing with him.”

“Playing with him?” she repeated, placing the mug on the banister to face him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “What do you mean _playing with him_?”

Chaff’s mouth was pinched into a tight line. “He never wanted to say what happened in Japan but I could guess. You freaked out, right? He popped out the ring and you freaked out ‘cause Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be happy with you marrying so beneath you. He was good for a fuck but nothing more.” He shook his head, anger slipping in his voice. “You _promised_ you were serious about him. You promised…”

“I didn’t break up with him, _he_ broke up with _me_.” she interrupted him coldly, but her mind was elsewhere. “What ring?”

Chaff was staring at her as if she had just said the most improbable stupid thing he had ever heard.

“ _He_ didn’t break up with you… That’s stupid.” he scoffed. “He had everything planned.”

“He… He had a ring?” she stuttered, reaching out for the banister at her back.

She had expected a proposal eventually but she hadn’t known he had bought _a ring_. He had been planning to _propose_ when they had left for Japan. He had been…

“You knew.” Chaff insisted only to cringe. “Oh _fuck_ … You _didn’t_ know.” 

“Are you _certain_ he had a ring?” she asked in a faint voice.

He seemed to hesitate and then shrugged. “Yeah. I helped him pick it out. In New York.”

She touched her brow, her fingers shaking a little, and then wrapped her hands around her now cold mug, turning her back on him again to hide her face.

She couldn’t say if she was angry or sad at that moment. They could have gotten married. They could have had an _entire_ life together. Fifteen years were a long time… They could have had children. Two or three. Children they would have raised with love and care and everything her mother had never given _her_. Perhaps they would never have won any Olympic medal but then what?

And yet she knew regrets would have festered underneath. It _had_ in some ways. To her twenty-three year old self, gold was everything she had needed to make her life complete because she had taken Haymitch for granted. He had become such a pillar in her life, such a rock… She had thought it went without saying that any dream of hers could only be fulfilled with him by her side.

Even afterwards… When she had recovered and tried other partners… The thirst for gold and glory had _still_ been there but it had been battered. The urge to prove her mother wrong, to prove that she was her equal had been intact but without Haymitch there… She never had the will to jump that little bit higher, to go that little bit faster, to push through the pain in her knee… She had lost some of the pleasure she had found in skating. She hadn’t felt the passion. He had taken that with him. The truth of the matter was… Gold without him had no meaning.

“I’m sorry, love.” Chaff sighed. “I thought you knew.”

When the door slid open and closed again, she dropped on the lounge chair, covered her face with her hands and took several deep breaths. She had done enough crying over this, she told herself. Enough. The past was in the past and she should be looking forward to the future.

_All those years lost_ …

She waited until she was sure she would remain collected before she went back inside. He was already in bed, reading, when she walked in her room. He took one look at her and frowned. “You’re okay, sweetheart?”

She mumbled a reassurance that obviously didn’t convince him and fled to the bathroom to get ready for the night. She took her time in there as well, going through her nightly ritual of creams and hair brushing to calm herself. She felt better when she came back into the bedroom. She climbed into bed and immediately snuggled against his chest, her head on his shoulder, her leg hooked over his hip, her fingers fisting his long-sleeved shirt…

“What’s wrong?” he insisted.

She simply shook her head, musing what an odd pair they made now: not really a couple and yet a couple in more ways than one. She should have kicked him back to his room and out of hers but the idea of sleeping alone again… It wasn’t one she wanted to consider. “Nothing.”

She knew he detected the lie but he didn’t call her out on it. He propped his book on his stomach, holding it open with one hand while the other played with her hair. It was _familiar_ , _soothing_ , and she gradually relaxed.

She had always blamed him for leaving her but now that she knew _everything_ …

He had been stupid.

But she had been too.

°O°

_“Come on…” Haymitch grumbled. “Come back to bed.”_

_He could barely keep his eyes open. He had known the Games would ask a lot out of them but he hadn’t counted on them being so_ exhausting _. He was still feeling jetlagged over their flight to Japan even if it had been days. The Opening Ceremony had been long and had involved a lot of waiting and standing on their feet. The actual competition was more stressing than any they had ever attended._

_Everything had been fine during the few galas they had done recently but now Enobaria and Brutus looked ready to trip them down the stairs and the Russian siblings Cashmere and Gloss clearly hadn’t forgiven them for stealing the World Champions title from them. The friendly atmosphere of the galas had morphed into hostility and mistrust._

_And now Effie was having a panic attack in the middle of the night, the day before their free program, and all_ he _really wanted was_ sleep _._

_He couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. He couldn’t wait to step down from that podium – there were no question they would_ be _on the podium, gold or not – and freely_ breathe _again. And then he would take the ring out and it would be perfect. Perfect end to the trip. Maybe she would even finally relax too…_

_“I can’t.” she snapped, keeping on pacing the length of the room. “The second twirl needs work. And what if my knee doesn’t hold and I end up crashing on the ice after you tossed me?”_

_“Sweetheart… Your knee held today, it will hold tomorrow.” he countered. “We’re in the lead for now.”_

_It was a short lead admittedly. The Russians were following close by._

_“How can you be so calm!” she hissed, her arms flying around._

_“’Cause it’s three a.m. and I’m_ fucking _tired.” he retorted, rolling on his back to watch her. She was wearing loose bright yellow shorts and a light camisole. He briefly wondered if he could convince her there were better ways to unwind than_ pacing, _but knew it wouldn’t be really serious to do that the day before such an important competition. They didn’t need any sore muscles – as pleasurable as it would be. “Look… We’ve got this, Effie. We know the routine by heart. It’s a good one. People will love it.”_

_“People, yes.” she sighed. “But what about the jury? I am certain Cashmere and Gloss will play on technique. We should have make ours even more technical. Why didn’t I think of this before? And the gold jumpsuit, do you think it is a good idea? Juries usually prefer more traditional outfits for female skaters… I should have gone with a dress and…”_

_“Breathe.” he reminded her, rolling his eyes. “We beat Cashmere and Gloss before.”_

_“And they might very well just beat us this time!” she replied._

_“And it won’t be a disaster if they do.” he scowled. “Look, I want to win too but if they get gold and we get silver, it won’t be the end of the world! There are more important things.”_

_“Of course, there are not!” she huffed, pausing her pacing long enough to glare at him, hands on her hips. “And it will be the end of_ my _world! I trained my_ whole _life to be here. Everything I ever did was for_ this _. There is_ nothing _more important than securing a win. Don’t you understand? It is everything I live for!”_

_Her words were like a punch to the stomach._ Nothing more important… Everything she lived for…

_“You don’t mean that.” he scoffed, a bit unsure. Didn’t she? She had never made a mystery of her ambitions. “You’re under pressure, fine, but you don’t mean that.”_

_“Of course, I mean it!” she declared, throwing her hands in the air as if he was infuriating her. “An Olympic gold medal is_ everything _to me. There is nothing else I want more. Nothing. And there is nothing more important either. And it is as should be, athletes should always be focused on their objectives.”_

_There were more important things, he wanted to argue, there were things_ he _wanted more… Like her,_ them _._

_He wanted to ask where he was ranking in her priority list: higher or lower than her gold medal? But he was scared of the answer so he stayed silent._

_“Why are you staring at me like that? What is it?” she frowned._

_He schooled his features into a mask of disinterest and shrugged. “Just wondering how much longer you’re going to keep me up. I’ve got a room of my own, you know?”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous. We haven’t slept apart for…” She drew a blank and then waved her hand to indicate it wasn’t important. “I can’t even remember. I suppose you are right. I should try to sleep.”_

_She didn’t look happy about that and when she finally climbed back into bed, she looked even less happy with the fact he didn’t immediately spooned her like they were used to. She manhandled him until she had her back against his chest, one of his legs trapped between hers and his arm wrapped around her. He let her._

_“We will win.” she said confidently enough. He thought she was trying to reassure herself._

_Haymitch didn’t answer._

_They might win the Games, they might not, but he had a feeling there was a bigger battle going on._

_And this one, he thought, they might have just lost._


	18. Chapter 18

“Do you think they will pull it off?” Katniss asked, watching Peeta’s movements with something akin to fascination. She was perched on the kitchen counter, distractedly turning the baking pan in her hands.

Peeta looked up from behind the central island. There was flour on his cheek and some chocolate on his chin from the first batch of cupcakes they had made – well _he_ had made. And he was making lemon and strawberry ones now and she was already drooling in advance.

“Haymitch and Effie?” he clarified. He kept on baking without even looking at what he was doing. He moved in a kitchen like it was second nature and Katniss found it riveting to watch. “Yeah, I think so. Have you checked social medias? Their fans are hyped.”

Tickets for that charity gala had been sold out two days after it had been officially announced that Fire and Ice would be performing. They were still big names in that field.

“Finnick’s been texting me nonstop.” she complained.

She had been the most surprised of them all that she, Peeta, Odair and Mason had managed to forge a friendship. She had been intent on treating their rivals as enemies until Haymitch had wisely cautioned her to remember who the real enemy was. They were all on the US team. They might be competing against his each other but that didn’t mean it had to be ugly.

“Me too.” Peeta laughed, rolling his eyes. “I think he should be their fanclub’s president.”

Finnick wanted to know if they had settled on a song, what sort of program they were doing, if it looked like what they used to do back in the days, how they were training, if they had secret tricks…

It was _exhausting_.

“He thinks watching them train is a privilege or something.” she snorted.

She had been a tiny bit excited too at first. Effie and Haymitch had been _great_ in their time and she had thought, somehow, that they would  learn a lot by watching them work. She should have known better really. They trained just like they did anything else: bickering and fighting all the while. They didn’t even have a choreography yet, just some moves they had ascertained they could do without Haymitch dropping Effie and breaking either of their neck.

“There’s a lot of expectations around them though.” he remarked. “I’m not sure Haymitch will deal well with that sort of pressure right now… We don’t need him going back to the bottle.”

She rolled her eyes. “You need to stop mothering him, Peeta. He’s a big man, he can make his own decisions.”

“He’s family and I’m worried.” he shrugged. “Is that _so_ wrong?”

She sighed, not liking the sudden tension in his shoulders. _Family_ was a touchy subject for Peeta – it was for her too, really. They had found something in Aspen she had never thought they would. She was missing her sister like crazy but she couldn’t deny… Living with Haymitch and Effie had been the closest thing to living with _actual_ parents that she had experienced since her father’s death. And even though it was often irritating because she was all grown up now, it was also… strangely _great_.

“He will be fine.” she said. “Effie’s watching him like a hawk anyway.”

He granted the point with a tilt of his head and shrugged again. “I guess so.” He nodded to the plate waiting next to her. “They should be cool enough now, can you bring them over?”

She hopped from the counter and did as he instructed. She stood next to him, watching with fascination as he twirled the frosting on top of the cupcakes. The plate soon joined the chocolate ones and she immediately reached out to snatch one only for him to bat her hand away.

“This is going on _instagram_ first.” he chided her. 

“You _are_ a nerd.” she declared, more teasing than reproachful.

He flashed her a grin, wiping his hands on his apron before fishing his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. He took at least three pictures under different angles and then waved her closer. “Come on, we will take a selfie. Our fans will like that.”

She folded her arms over her chest with a pout, not liking this habit of his to put pictures of them out there. It was _a thing_ , she knew. Fans loved following him on social medias and they loved it when he posted news about them. Finnick and Johanna both did the same thing and so did Cato and Clove but _she_ still disliked it. 

“ _Prim_ will like it.” he added with a smile that told her he wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

She granted her permission with a sigh but reached for his cheek before he had time to raise the phone to snap his picture. She cupped his cheek and wiped the flour away with her thumb. He froze and, suddenly, she froze too, flushing red.

“You got some…” she winced. “I…” Her eyes fell on a dish cloth and she flung it at him. “Your face is a mess.”

She stared at her feet because the look he was giving her was making her feel… _Odd_. She was warm all of a sudden and the heat came from inside.

She was still slightly flushed when he took the picture.

Later, in the safety of her bedroom, she let herself browse his _instagram_ and studied the picture more closely. She was flushed and he was beaming, their eyes were bright. They both looked happy.

She saved it in her phone.

She didn’t let herself linger on _why_.

°O°

“Why are you being so _insufferable_?” Effie sighed. “You shot down _every_ of my propositions… We need to settle on a music, Haymitch. We need to start _rehearsing_.”

She was starting to think maybe he had had a point all along and it wasn’t the greatest idea to perform together again. People were actually _waiting_ for it and she was afraid it wouldn’t work out. They didn’t have a routine and they didn’t have a song. They had been sitting in the living-room for two hours and no decision had been made.

“Cause everything you’ve been proposing is _shit_ , sweetheart.” he retorted, still browsing the dvds collection on the shelves. “Your taste in music is boring. It was boring before and it only grew worse.”

She took a deep breath and let her eyes wander around the living room to stay calm.

“Then why don’t _you_ suggest something, then?” she retorted, running her hands on her thighs to smooth any possible crease on her black slacks. She was wondering if pairing them with that V neck ivory cashmere sweater really was the best arrangement for those pants.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her computer from the coffee table. She winced when he started walking around absentmindedly, her computer propped on his left forearm as he slowly browsed through her music library. She didn’t want to have to deal with a broken laptop.

He was restless that evening, unable to keep still. She had asked him twice if he was alright but he had deflected the question each time. She thought he was probably _really_ craving a drink and too proud to admit so.

“Ah…” he smirked. “Now, we’re talking.” The first notes of Bon Jovi’s _You Give Love A Bad Name_ burst out of the speakers. “ _That’s_ the perfect song.”

“That is _not_ a music for a lyrical. We _are_ doing a lyrical.” she sighed, praying for patience. “And aside for the fact this song doesn’t suit our needs… _No_.”

“Why not?” he sulked. “It’s perfect. It’s your song.”

She shook her head, already guessing at what would follow and, surely enough, he started singing along with the music, terribly off-key, shouting more than he was singing. She was reminded of countless mornings when she had been woken up by his mewling along with the radio in the shower.

_“Shot through the heart and you’re to blame… Darling, you give love a bad name…”_

“Please, stop.” she cringed, biting on her bottom lip.

_“I played my part and you played your game…”_

He was now swaying his hips to the music and she bit harder on her bottom lip to prevent herself from laughing. “Please, Haymitch, I am experiencing a severe case of second-hand embarrassment.” Clearly that only spurred him on because he dropped the computer on the couch and grabbed her hands to haul her up to her feet. “Oh,  no, no, no… I am very comfortable watching you making a fool of yourself from the couch, thank you very much. I don’t…”

He was still strong despite everything and he had no trouble forcing her up, using the grip on her hands to make her twirl this way and that in something that couldn’t have never been called _dancing_.

_“Paint your smile on your lips… Blood red nails on your fingertips_ …” he hummed, pulling her closer to him, trapping her in his arms.

“This song was already out of fashion when we met.” she protested.

“ _A school boy’s dream, you act so shy… Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye…”_ he went on, too high and out of synch with the singer. “It’s your song, sweetheart.”

“ _You_ decided it was my song. I beg to differ.” she countered, locking her arms around his neck. They swayed to the music even though it wasn’t at all made for slow dancing. He was looking at her as if the only thing he wanted was to pin her to the closest flat surface and have his way with her and she averted her eyes, trying not to let herself get affected by his heated gaze. They slept in the same bed and they fell asleep cuddling most nights but they still had shared only one kiss – and, admittedly he had a point and it hadn’t been their greatest kiss ever – and she was still wary of taking this on the next level. “I know what we should do… We should do _Romeo and Juliet_ again.”

That had been their last performance together at the closing gala exhibition of the 98 Olympic Games. It was a theme that had been used to death over the years but it still worked. Star-crossed lovers were always a hit.

“Pokofiev?” He made a face. “ _No way_. We agreed to keep it simple. Pokofiev isn’t simple.”

“We don’t have to use the same music.” she argued. “But it could be our theme. A way to close the loop.” She let go of him to type on her computer. “Do you remember the 96 movie with Dicaprio?”

“Hard not to. You made me watch it twenty times and it got worse each time.” he groaned. She found the song she was looking for and waited for his reaction. He rolled his eyes. “So we’re going for cheesy then.”

“I prefer _moving_.” she countered, wrapping her arms around his neck again as _I’m Kissing You_ started playing in the background. “Now dance with me.”

“I don’t dance.” he grumbled but complied with her wishes all the same.

At first his hands remained flat on her lower back but then he moved one of them up, fingers trailing up her spine only to coil loosely around her nape. She tucked her head under his chin, sneaking her arms around his torso, she kept one around his waist and gripped his shoulder from behind with her free hand. He bowed his head a little and she could feel his stubble against her cheek, his lips weren’t far from her ear. She didn’t quite know if they were hugging or dancing but either way it felt right. His thumb was drawing silly patterns on her back.

She closed her eyes and just let herself enjoy the moment without thinking of the past or the future.

When the music died, she looked up at him to find his grey eyes studying her with rapt attention.

“Guess we found ourselves a song.” he shrugged.

°O°

_“Are you certain you are as good at hockey as you claimed to be?”_

_Haymitch glanced up at Effie’s taunting, instinctively adjusting his grip on his stick. He had found a collection of them along with a few pucks in a cupboard and he had grabbed a couple of them without thinking twice about it. He had placed two bottles of water as an improvised goal and he had been steadily missing every shoot ever since._

_He didn’t know if going into figure staking was a good idea but clearly he had lost his hand at hockey. Two weeks in this thing and he was still not sure all those people weren’t crazy. The girl was hot, that much was a no-brainer. She was also very much a pain in the ass who insisted on dragging him out of bed at dawn to go running before pushing him in the gym where she kept him for hours, then they had to practice lifts which resulted in him putting his hands in places that made him want to joke about buying her a drink first, and then she tortured him further by forcing him on the rink where he spent most of the afternoon falling on his ass on the ice. It was funny, he had thought he was good at skating before he had met her._

_The trainer, Mags, was nice enough if a little too motherly for his tastes, he tended to avoid her outside of training hours. She reminded him too much of his own mother and the loss was still too fresh. He had been told Effie’s mother would come back from her business trip at some point and he had also gathered from what Sae had to say – the cook was probably the only person in that house he considered a friend for now – he wouldn’t like her much._

_“Not a hockey player anymore, remember?” he grumbled._

_She watched him over the top of her fashion magazine – which was apparently one of her other passions although Haymitch tended to zone out when she talked because she could chat_ all day long _._

_“I almost expected you to say you can take the hockey player off the ice but you can’t take the ice out of the hockey player.” she commented._

_He rolled his eyes. “You make no sense. How is it like in that brain of yours? Lots of space, yeah?”_

_She narrowed her eyes at him, lips pursed and head slightly tilted to the side. “You are_ so _rude it is almost unbelievable.”_

_“Whatever you say, Princess.” he scoffed, hitting the puck. It glided well away from the makeshift goal. She snorted haughtily and he glared. “You think you can do better?”_

_“Please.” she scoffed. “How difficult can it be?”_

_She placed her magazine down and rose up from the armchair, joining him on the ice in two graceful steps. She skidded to a halt next to him, grabbed the stick and went to fetch the puck. He folded his arms, a smirk on his face as he watched her realize she would need to adjust her balance to include the stick._

_Not so surprisingly she managed to advance around two feet with the stick and the puck before ending up tripping and falling flat on her stomach._

_“That makes for a nice change.” he mocked._

_She just_ loved _to gloat when he forgot he wasn’t wearing hockey skates anymore and ended up crashing._

_“Very funny.” she deadpanned, pushing herself back up. She tested her knee a few times before going back to moving the puck around – more carefully. She got into position facing the goal and he almost burst out laughing at the way she was handling that stick._

_“You’re playing hockey or golf?” he smirked._

_“Given that you haven’t goaled once in the past fifteen minutes, should you be giving me instructions?” she retorted._

_He lifted his hands. “Suit yourself.”_

_She took out a chunk of ice but the puck didn’t move. She pouted. “Well, it seemed we are both equally unsuited for the sport.”_

_“Do you have to talk like you’re going to meet the Queen of England any second?” he scorned._

_“Do you have to talk like a hooligan?” she replied haughtily._

_“I’m going to take you.” he decided._

_“I beg your pardon?!” she gasped._

_He frowned, confused for a second, and then he_ realized _and he burst out laughing. It wasn’t a particularly kind laugh and she clearly took offense._

_“I meant at hockey, sweetheart. Take your mind out of the gutter…” He looked her up and down and licked his lips. Nobody could have qualified the flannel training pants and the red turtleneck of_ sexy _but she had a way of making everything she wore tempting anyway. “Although… If you’re so_ bent _on it…”_

_“Don’t even finish that thought.” she hissed. “And I will take you up on that challenge.”_

_He grabbed a second stick for him and off they went. He was careful. The memory of his last match still haunting him. He never bumped into her and he always kept his stick angled away from her face and body. She was a fast learner and she soon had the hang of finding her balance while using the stick but she couldn’t have touched the puck if her life had been on the line. He let her attempt to goal once or twice, mocking her when she failed again._

_The improvised game came to a halt when he – once again – forgot about the type of skates he was wearing and tried to take a sharp turn. He ended up skidding on his stomach on the ice. He was becoming very used to that. His body was bruised all over as it was._

_“Toe pick.” she reminded him with a grin._

_Fucking metal teeth at the front of the blades that he was supposed to_ use _._

_“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled. “I know.”_

_He kneeled cautiously, making sure he was in one piece, when her hand appeared in front of his face. He looked up at her. It was the first time she offered a hand after he fell. He hesitated for a second before taking it. The momentum propelled him forward and he bumped into her. She stood her ground, of course,_ she _had no problems with her skates, but he didn’t give her her space back at once. Her eyes were very,_ very _blue and she was staring straight at him._

_He was about to make a joke that would probably have been inappropriate if only to cut through the suddenly thick tension when the door of the rink was pushed open and Mags stepped inside, her arms full of papers._

_“Break’s over.” their trainer declared “Back to business.”_

_Effie glided away fast, as if caught red handed, her cheeks flushed and clearly irritated._

_Haymitch shrugged it off as another of her weird antics._


	19. Chapter 19

“Tout ceci est ridicule!” Effie snapped at the competition official who had approached them in the first place.

Haymitch didn’t quite understand what the fuss was about but, clearly, there was a problem. Katniss and Peeta were looking from him to Effie, to the people rummaging through their bags.

“Welcome to _fucking_ Paris.” he grumbled under his breath.

The flight had been long and they were all feeling jetlagged. The excitement of being in another country had clearly been enough for the kids to forget about that though. Ever since they had landed, Katniss had been looking at everything with wide eyes while Peeta grinned like the cat who ate the canary and practiced the few words of French Effie had taught him on the plane – Katniss had stuck around for the lesson but hadn’t been very attentive and Haymitch had preferred to nap, knowing that as long as he had her next to him he’d be alright since she was fluent.

The general enthusiasm and good mood had deflated once they had reached the rink where the _Grand Prix_ was taking place. Effie had registered them weeks earlier so he was sure that it couldn’t be the problem but the moment she had given their names, people with official badges had asked to search their bags and inspect their skates…

“Effie, what _the fuck_ is going on?” he asked finally. “We’re going to miss warm up.”

“What is going on? I will tell you what is going.” she huffed. “ _Someone_ apparently made alleged accusations that we were cheating by using irregular skates.” She leveled an irritated look at the man who she had been shouting at in French for the past ten minutes. “And this gentleman obviously won’t tell me _who_ it was but our list of suspects isn’t that extensive if the organization committee is ready to believe them.”

“The Careers.” Katniss deduced.

“The dragon.” Haymitch corrected in a growl.

“Yes, that seems more likely.” Effie nodded. “Enobaria and Brutus may not be very friendly in competition times but they play fair. This is clearly an attempt at upsetting you.”

“It’s fine.” Peeta shrugged. “They will see we have nothing to hide and everything will be alright.”

“Rumors are not so easily dismissed.” she retorted with a sigh. “I do apologize. This is a personal vendetta against _me_ and…”

“Don’t worry.” the boy insisted.

“Miss…” the competition official said with a strong French accent. “We’re sorry for the inconvenience. You are free to compete.”

“ _Finally_.” she snapped. “Je me plaindrai à vos supérieurs!” She nudged the children in the direction of the locker rooms. “We lost enough time. Go get ready.”

Haymitch matched her pace, waiting until the kids had scampered away to lean in and whisper in her ear. “The French thing is still hot.”

“Not now, Haymitch.” she retorted but a smile was tugging at the corner of her lips.

He placed a casual hand at the small of her back as they made their way to the rink, lamenting the fact he couldn’t feel the warmth of her body through the heavy wool of her coat.

“I love it when you speak dirty French to me…” he hummed, low enough that his voice wouldn’t carry. “Do you remember Switzerland? That bathtub…”

“Will you _hush_?” she chided him, aiming for stern but sounding more amused than anything.

He would have teased her further but she was saved by the huge number of people buzzing around the rink – staff, skaters and trainers alike – warms up were in full swing.

“You think the dragon has more tricks up her sleeve?” he asked her.

“Undoubtedly.” she sighed. “She won’t forgive me soon. We can expect more of these petty tricks.”

“Petty tricks won’t stop our kids.” he promised, sliding the hand resting at the small of her back to her hip to draw her closer to him.

She stepped away with an apologetic smile. “We are in a professional setting.”

“Like that ever stopped us before.” he winked but relented faced with her pursed lips. “ _Fine_ , sweetheart. Have it your way.”

“My way is generally the best way.” she teased. “Remember Switzerland.”

He watched her sauntering away, burying his hands in the pockets of his coat and shaking his head with fondness. He spotted Mags leaning heavily on her walking stick next to the barrier enclosing the rink and he joined her, leaving Effie to discuss schedules with someone from staff. Mags welcomed him with a warm smile and patted his arm when he stopped next to her.

“You’re late, boy.” she said in that half-hiss half murmur that was now her voice.

“Yeah, the dragon is up to all sort of tricks.” he shrugged. “ _Bitch_.”

Mags pursed her lips with obvious disapproval at this poor show of language but didn’t quite correct him. Her eyes wandered to Effie, her expression softening. “It is good she learned to distance herself from Elindra’s opinions.”

“Yeah.” he approved. He wouldn’t lie, it was a development in Effie’s life he was one hundred percent alright with.

The walking stick hit him in the calf not so accidentally, bringing his attention back on his former trainer. Mags looked a little smug and very pleased. “It took you a long time to come back to your senses.”

It wasn’t very difficult to guess what she was talking about and he rolled his eyes – meddling old-women were a _pain_ , he got enough comments from Sae in Aspen as it was.

“It’s not like _that_.” he mumbled, unwilling to discuss their private life.

They had kissed _once_. They were trying to glue everything back together but _trying_ was the key word here. He didn’t know if it would work and he didn’t know if it wouldn’t make everything _worse_. The first break-up had almost killed them, he wasn’t sure he would be able to go through a second one.

“ _Of course_ , it is like _that_.” Mags huffed, her annoyance making it complicated to decipher the words. He had to lean in to hear her over the surrounding cacophony. “I told you before, didn’t I? She’s your one in a million, boy. You don’t waste that.”

“Kind of did anyway, right?” he snored bitterly.

“Your heart was in the right place.” she sighed. “There is always that. But it was _bloody_ idiotic of you. _Bloody idiotic_. I told you. I said she would be your greatest regret if you left.”

“You did.” he agreed, shuffling on his feet, uncomfortable. “And you were right.”

He sometimes felt as if his life had been on pause for fifteen years. She had come back and he had started living again.

“I’m always right.” Mags scoffed. “You should have known to listen to _me_.”

“I thought she would do… _more_.” he confessed, letting his gaze stray to Effie who was now lecturing Katniss and Peeta. The kids were focused on whatever she was saying, nodding every two words… “I really thought she would have had a better shot without me. She was… She _is_ so amazing on the ice… I don’t get what went wrong. She should have won that _fucking_ medal.”

“She might have. With you.” His former trainer shrugged. “You said she loved the sport more than she loved you… Maybe she thought she did. When you left she realized it wasn’t so. She lost the will. And after you… No partner fitted, boy. Watching you two skate together was magical. You made each other _extraordinary_. With anyone else… She was ordinary. She hated that.” It was a long speech for her who had trouble articulating every word but Mags went on. “I was relieved when she quitted, truth be told. I love her but I train _champions_ and she… She wasn’t that anymore.”

He snorted, turning his eyes on the ice, his voice full of self-loathing. “So what you’re saying is… I _fucking_ broke her.”

Mags’ gaze was hard but not without sympathy. “We all do stupid things for love. You couldn’t know. It might have worked.”

“Yeah, _might_ _have_.” he scowled. He found himself watching Finnick and he frowned. “What’s your boy doing?”

She sighed, drumming her fingers on the knob of her walking stick. “Trying to push a triple loop jump.”

“Why?” he frowned. “It’s _pair_ skating, he’s not going solo.”

“You did it.” Mags pointed out.

“I did a lot of stupid _shit_.” he retorted. “Almost broke my neck a thousand times. You lectured me enough.”

“He looks up to you.” she declared.

He shook his head. “He’s doing it wrong and he’s going to break something.”

“Then go explain.” Mags said softly with a wave of her hand.

“I’m not his trainer.” he grumbled. “Competition, remember?” She simply stared at him with a calm look, without saying anything, and he rolled his eyes. “ _Fine_.” He stomped closer to where Odair and Mason were warming up and whistled to get their attention. Jo lifted a scornful eyebrow but Finnick skated closer to the edge eagerly. “You’re going to break your leg, boy. If you’re going to do this, do it right.”

His sea-green eyes lighted up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “You’re going to teach me?”

He glanced at Effie who was coaching their kids while chatting with Annie Cresta and figured he should _maybe_ ask her first – they were a team after all – but his loyalty to Mags took over. He didn’t think she would mind. _Much_.

“Yeah.” he surrendered with a sigh. “But not now so _keep away_ from those triple loop jumps for now. You don’t have Mason’s charm, I won’t carry you bridal style if you twist something.”

Finnick’s grin was wide and he didn’t seem able to contain his glee. He skated straight to his partner and circled around her, repeating “You heard that? Did you? _Haymitch Abernathy_ ’s going to coach _me_.”

Johanna’s only answer was to roll her eyes. “You _really_ need to get those fanboy tendencies in check.”

The announcer’s voice declared warm-ups were over and the skaters all cleared the rink. He joined Effie in the area reserved for trainers. She looped her arm around his immediately with an amused smile. “Why is Finnick shouting that you agreed to coach him?”

“I said I would teach him the triple loop jump not that I was coaching him.” he grumbled. “That boy is like a puppy.”

“He has always been full of questions about you.” she hummed. “I think you are his childhood hero.”

“What does that make _you_?” he snorted.

“His childhood crush.” she grinned only to immediately wince. “Which makes me feel _atrociously_ old.”

“Old or not you’re still hot.” he smirked as the competition started. Completely uninterested in what was happening on the ice, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “The things I would do to you…”

_If she had let him_ went unspoken. He was counting his victories where he could. She allowed him to sleep in her bed, she allowed him to hold her at night, she allowed the occasional kiss on her neck or shoulder…

She blushed a little and cleared her throat, lifting a challenging eyebrow. “I am listening.”

He wasn’t completely surprised by that answer but he was _pleased_ and, encouraged, he kept his mouth close to her ear, his body angled toward hers so he could feel every one of her shivers as he depicted in painful details just _what_ he would do and _how_. It wasn’t exactly clever do that _there_ because he was half-hard and her breath was short, she was flushed and, from time to time, she glanced at him and licked her lips and it made him groan every time. Her nails were digging in his arm, he could feel them through the coat, and it only spur him on.

They missed half of the competition.

She blinked and whacked his arm when they called Johanna and Finnick’s names, telling him to _hush and focus now, Haymitch…_

“Hot and bothered, are you?” he snorted.

“As if you are not glad your coat is long and loose.” she retorted.

He granted the point with a wink.

Finnick and Johanna’s short program was good but not as daring and spectacular as what had made their name in the past. They still easily ranked first.

“They will need more than that to win a World medal.” he told her.

“Johanna’s ankle is still bothering her but she won’t admit it.” Effie sighed. “They are still playing it safe for now.”

“Well, it works for us.” he commented.

It was the kids’ turn soon so they went backstage to check on them – and found Peeta watching Katniss with bright eyes while she hummed some Coldplay song, her earphones on, entirely focused on her stretching. They went through the usual advices and instructions but they were distracted. Effie kept tossing him covert glances and he kept finding excuses to touch her.

They watched the kids’ program and they cheered and clapped with the crowd but his hand kept finding its way to the small of her back, kept flirting with the limit of groping, kept returning to her shoulder, her wrist and at some point coiled around her neck as he used to do when she badly needed to relax…

“There are cameras.” Effie reminded him. “People will snap pictures with their phones… It is not 98 anymore, Haymitch.”

“Let them see.” he growled, gently rubbing away the tension from her shoulders.

He simply couldn’t _stop_ touching her. And she wasn’t _helping_. She stood close to him, looping her arms around one of his and pressing her chest against his biceps every two seconds, leaning against his side, grabbing his wrist or squeezing his hand to get his attention… 

At the end of the day, the kids were in the lead thanks to their short program and Peeta was tossing them odd glances coupled with elbow nudges to Katniss who seemed completely oblivious. It was probably for the best.

Mags’ team was staying in the same hotel they were – he didn’t know if it was a coincidence or if Effie had planned it – but the walk back was almost too much to bear. Jo and Katniss argued from the stadium to the hotel, Mags, Annie and Peeta walked behind them in deep conversation – he thought their former trainer was offering advices to the boy and Cresta sometimes explained further since she was playing the unofficial assistant – and Finnick kept sauntering from one group to the next, harassing Haymitch with questions. Effie seemed to find it funny. He didn’t. Not when all he wanted to do was push against the first flat surface.

Once they reached the lobby there was some talk of getting dinner together… Haymitch not so discreetly placed his hand on Effie’s hip, drawing her against his side and she made excuses without a blink, her bright smile glued to her lips as she lied between her teeth about jetlag and headaches. They made plans for the next morning he didn’t bother listening to.

The elevator wasn’t empty and he had to keep his hands in his pockets. It was torture. A woman recognized them and asked for a picture, Effie accepted with a smile and whacked him in the stomach when he didn’t make an effort to smile on the selfie. It gave him an excuse to wrap his arm around her waist so he didn’t complain _too_ _much_.

He kept the arm there as they walked out of the elevator and to their room and started unbuttoning his coat while she searched the key card in her purse. The corridor was desert, he pressed himself against her back and lowered his mouth to her neck. She immediately tilted her head to give him access, still rummaging in her bag.

“That won’t help me find the key card faster.” she giggled

He hadn’t heard her giggle once since they had reunited. He had forgotten how much he loved the sound. His mouth latched on her neck, his arms around her, he started unbuttoning her own coat, sliding his hand over the tight fabric of her blouse…

“No mark.” she hummed as he nipped at the soft skin under her jaw.

_Finally_ she found the key. They stumbled in the suite and she turned in his arms so they could kiss properly. That was _nothing_ like the poor excuse of a kiss they had exchanged in front of the rink. This one was dirty and rough and it turned into another one just as brutal as the first. They fell on the couch, still kissing. Her hands untucked his shirt, slipped underneath to roam on his back… She hummed when she felt his skin and he thrust his hips into hers instinctively, pushing her further down the couch, pinning her there almost, as he touched and grabbed and kneaded over her clothes…

The buttons of her blouse were ivory little thing that were hard to pop open. He struggled with them with shaky fingers, his mouth still on hers… It had been _so long_ since he had last kissed her…

She had said she didn’t remember their last kiss… He remembered only too well. It had been after the 98 Olympic short program, right after she had stepped out of the shower. She had been wrapped in a fluffy yellow towel and he had pecked her lips distractedly before taking his turn in the bathroom. She had already been in bed when he had come back, already deep in doubts about their free program and the competition and the gold medal…

“ _Fuck_ …” he grumbled, annoyed with the blouse that wasn’t complying with his wishes. He wanted her breasts. He _needed_ her breasts…

“Haymitch…” she whispered and his hips thrust forward again at the breathless sound of his name. Maybe that was what he should take care of first: his pants and her skirt… “Haymitch, please…”

“I’m on it.” he mumbled, refusing to ask for help but irritated she hadn’t yet offered it. She knew his fingers weren’t as deft as they used to be. She could have…

“No, I…” she winced.

Her hands were still tangled in his hair but there was a _shift_ in the mood and he stilled suddenly, propping his elbow on the armrest behind her head to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were blown as always when she was aroused, her chest was rising and falling quickly and her mouth looked deliciously bruised from too much kissing.

She licked her lips, averting her eyes, not quite telling him to stop but not quite telling to go on either.

“You don’t want this.” he stated.

Her gaze darted back to his, almost panicked. “Yes. Yes, I do. I _do_ , Haymitch. It’s just…”

“Too much too fast?” he frowned.

“Yes.” she breathed out. He got off her and sat up at the edge of the couch, angling his body away from hers. She scrambled in a sitting position too, a dismayed look on her face. “I am so sorry if I led you on… I thought I was ready but… I am sorry, Haymitch. I _am._ ”

She placed her hand on his thigh but he made a face and gently relocated it to her own leg. “Don’t take it the wrong way but I need a minute, sweetheart.”

She bit on her bottom lip. “I am so…”

“Yeah, sorry. You said.” he shrugged. “Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. Well it’s not _really_ fine but… _Yeah_ , give me a minute. Or a cold shower.” He snorted that last part, flashing her a smirk. She was still chewing on her lip and he reached out and pried it loose from her teeth with his thumb. “It’s fine. I get it.”

“I didn’t mind the kissing…” she confessed in a whisper. “Or the touching. I am just not ready for… _more_.”

“So we’re back to making out like teenagers.” he chuckled, a little bitter.

She flinched and stood up, smoothing her skirt with her hand, clearly embarrassed. “I shall see about ordering some…”

He grabbed her wrist as she walked past.

“Didn’t mean it like that.” he promised. “I’ll take what you want to give. Like I said just…”

It was pathetic how much he was willing to concede to her. He would follow her rules and her pace if that was what it would take. He wasn’t just in there for the sex as amazing as it had always been.

“Give you a minute.” she finished slowly.

“Yeah.” he nodded, brushing his thumb up and down her inner wrist.

She smiled, uncertain. “I will call room service for some dinner.”

“You do that.” he nodded.

It was awkward for a little while despite his jokes and his sarcastic comments at whatever the idiots on TV were doing. It was even more awkward once they called it a night and went to bed. They lied there back to back until Haymitch rolled his eyes, muttered a “ _fuck it_ ” and rolled around to wrap his arm around her. She immediately relaxed in his embrace with obvious relief, turning her head in his direction.

“I _am_ sorry.” she whispered. “I _want_ to. I do not know what is wrong with me.”

“You need time.” he shrugged. “It’s fine, sweetheart, we’ve got plenty of that.” He pressed a kiss on her neck. “Kissing and touching is okay, right? We can have fun with that…”

Kissing her had always been one of his favorite things…

He didn’t know if _fun_ was the right word for the heavy make-out session that followed. They didn’t stop until he was rock hard and grinding against her thigh and her whole body was trembling. What was fun was the pent-up anticipation, what wasn’t so fun was the sheer frustration of knowing it wouldn’t be followed by release.

He didn’t ask if she had changed her mind because he was sure her mind was so clouded by lust she would have agreed to anything he would have offered. He left the bed to take a cold shower instead and he tried hard not to notice she had changed her pajamas shorts because the other ones were soaked.

They weren’t so good at keeping it in their pants.

Never had been.

°O°

_“Mags’ going to have a stroke if we don’t start warming up.” he snorted, his grey eyes coming to rest on their trainer who was leaning against the rail surrounding the rink._

_“What is the point?” Effie sighed._

_And since she was right, he didn’t add anything, happy to free glide slowly, leaving room for the other skaters – the ones who would actually compete in the 97 World Championships and who weren’t just there to play replacement. They weren’t even trying to pretend they were rehearsing. Switzerland was cold at this time of year and they hadn’t even changed in their training outfits. Haymitch was still wearing his jeans and his navy blue hoodie and she was still in her white slacks and red sweater, her blond hair loose on her shoulders. At some point she had decided it was too freezing for her and she had placed her gloved hands in the back pockets of his jeans and they had been hugging-skating ever since. They were ignoring the looks people were tossing them. They weren’t the only partners wrapped around each other anyway._

_They were treating this competition a little like a joke. They were the stand-ins and they wouldn’t skate. Getting into their costumes, taking it seriously… It was asking a lot when Viola Summercket was cackling a few feet away, loud enough to be heard despite the general cacophony, and when the Careers were rehearsing lifts and twirls that made Haymitch’s head spin simply_ looking _at them._

_“You know…” Effie hummed, her lips stretching into one of those devious grins he loved so much. “There is a huge bathtub in my hotel room. I think it could fit three people.”_

_“If that’s your way of saying you want a threesome, I don’t share, sweetheart.” he snorted._

_“Even with the Russian brunette you’ve been eyeing since we have arrived?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows and failing to hide the tinge of annoyance in her voice._

_“She’s got nothing on you.” he assured. And_ looking _wasn’t_ cheating _. She had been eyeing the French skater too, he had noticed – although knowing her it might have to do with scouting the competition rather than any interest._

_“I’d rather think not.” she growled. “Because she won’t be sucking you off in my bathtub later.”_

_He hadn’t been expecting that and his eyes snapped back to her and her pleased little smile._

_“Effie…” he warned. They were in public and he was wearing jeans that weren’t so loose. It would be difficult to hide anything if she kept on that track – and he knew she_ could _keep on that track._

_“Yes?” she asked, all fake innocence._

_He found himself smirking. “Minx.”_

_“Why, only for you, darling.” she purred, clenching her hands in his pockets, very much groping him._

_He was trying to figure out if they could get away with spending the whole competition fooling around in one of the supply closets. “Now, you’re…”_

_Effie’s face suddenly morphed into horror and the sharp scream of pain swallowed the end of his sentence. It was followed by utter silence as everyone turned to look at the woman wriggling in pain on the ice._

_Haymitch stared with the rest of them as Viola Summercket remained lying on her back, clenching her shoulder, while Seneca Crane stood there, arms helplessly dangling at his sides._

_Enobaria was the first one to recover and she skated closer, skidding to her knees next to their teammate. Effie tore her hands away from his pockets and followed, kneeling on the other side of Viola. Brutus and Haymitch hovered nearby, a bit uncertain as to what they should do._

_“Don’t touch me, you bitch!” Viola spat. “It’s fine. I’m_ fine _.”_

_“You dropped her.” Effie accused, looking up at Seneca. “I saw it. You lifted her above your head but you didn’t have a proper grip. You_ dropped _her.”_

_“I… No!” Seneca protested. “She turned too early.”_

_“Doesn’t matter.” Enobaria declared, her face blank. “That shoulder’s dislocated.”_

_“What?” he blinked,_ finally _crouching next to his partner. “No, it’s not. We’re competing…”_

_“We are competing.” Viola vowed between clenched teeth, waving away the medical team carrying a stretcher. “I am winning this competition!”_

_“With a shoulder out of your socket?” Enobaria scoffed. “Doubt it. Karma’s a bitch like that.” She turned to Effie. “Looks like you and hockey boy are on, Trinket.”_

_Haymitch watched the medical team carry away Summercket, kicking and screaming, but only came back to Earth when he felt Effie’s fingers coiling around his wrist._

_“We need to change.” she hissed. “And warm up. And,_ oh my god, _Haymitch we are competing!”_

_Her eyes were made bluer by the excitement and he nodded numbly, following her lead, going through the motions._

_They exited the locker rooms at the same time. The corridor was empty. She coiled her hand at the back of his neck and drew him in a kiss that made him see stars._

_“If we win this, I will give you the best night of your life.” she vowed._

_He didn’t want just_ one _night – and wasn’t that a scary thought – but he kissed her back, deep and dirty like she liked best and tried not to fret too much about the waltz. He still hated the waltz despite the fact that the short program had served them well at Nationals._

_The waltz was all about technique as a short program always was and that was still not Haymitch’s strongest asset. He was nervous. He wasn’t mentally ready to perform. He was certain he was going to forget the steps or the count or worse that he wouldn’t remember how to grab her and that she would end in the hospital with Viola – and if she had to share a hospital room with Viola she might very well_ kill _him._

_He kept shuffling from one foot to the other as they waited for their turn backstage until she stopped going through the steps in a corner to wrap her arms around his torso. Again, they weren’t the only partners locked in a similar embrace around the room. Friends, lovers… It didn’t matter in those moments. Being partners was a special bond._

_“Don’t think about the technique.” she whispered to him, framing his face in her hands. “Don’t think_ at all _. Just look at me. Dance_ with _me. When we step on that rink, we will be alone. Just you and me. It is only about you and me.” She placed her hand on his chest, above his heart. “Don’t think. Just feel.”_

_Thinking only about her wasn’t hard to do. She was wearing red and he loved her in red. When they stepped on the ice, her eyes never left his and he was reminded of Paris, of how_ easy _everything had seemed there, of how her eyes had sparkled in the pale winter sun when she had spread her arms wide under the Eiffel Tower and had laughed, her hair whipping around in the wind, her pink scarf dangling from her fingers…_

_It honestly felt like a dream to Haymitch. He forgot the competition, he forgot the jury, the crowd and Mags who was biting down on her knuckle at the edge of the rink._

_Only Effie existed._

_Only_ them _._

_And it was perfect._

_They defied every odds and ranked first that day._

_The next day, despite Effie fretting about her knee, they nailed the free program down to a T. He even squeezed in the triple loop jump he had been working on and Mags had insisted wasn’t necessary in a pair skating performance._

_They won._

_It was surreal._

_The podium, the medal around his neck, Effie’s hand clutching his, the tears of happiness she couldn’t quite blink back, the white roses in her arms whose smell reminded him too much of his family’s funerals, the picture that the medias would use when they talked about them for the rest of their partnership…_

_They were World champions._

_Two days earlier they had been on the bench and now they were World champions._

_He would always think fondly about Switzerland, he decided later, when he lowered himself into the scalding water of her bathtub._

_They were World Champions._

_And she was his._

_And if he had anything to say about it, that would never end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The waltz is based on Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron short dance this year. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	20. Chapter 20

_“_ Oh, _come on_ …” Finnick whined, stepping out of the bedroom, wearing nothing else than a pair of boxer briefs. “Haymitch showed me this morning… I can _do_ it, Mags.”

Katniss hastily looked down, she _had known_ it would be a mistake to wait for everyone in the living-room of Finnick and Johanna’s double room suite. She fished a pastry from the plate on the coffee table and focused on that instead of on the debate going on around her. That morning, Effie, Peeta and Annie – all early birds who apparently didn’t suffer from jetlag – had gone shopping while Katniss, Johanna and Mags enjoyed a lie-in. Finnick had dragged Haymitch out of bed a little after nine and had forced him to keep his word and to teach him how to do a triple loop jump.

Now he was bent on putting it in their free program.

“You’re not _fucking_ with our program three hours before competing.” Jo snapped. “Stop it already.”

Mags didn’t even gratify that with an answer. As for Haymitch, he took a sip of his orange juice and snorted. “You will end up with your ass on the ice and I’ll laugh until Sunday. You’re not ready, boy.”

Finnick planted his hands on his hips, legs spread in a defensive stance. “I am very much ready. Katniss, help me out. What do you think?”

She munched on her _croissant_ before answering, not quite looking at him, her cheeks flushed. “I think you look like someone who forgot to get dressed. Can you put some pants on already?”

“ _Aw_ , how _sweet_ …” Johanna cackled. “She’s _innocent.”_

_“_ And you’re very much _not_.” Haymitch mocked. “No need to say it. It’s all over your face.”

Jo lifted an eyebrow coupled with a challenging stare. “Why, Abernathy… If you grow bore of Trinket’s missionary, you can always try me… Add a little spice to your sex life.”

“It’s cute you think she’s only into missionary.” he retorted and Katniss’ face turned crimson.

“Guys!” she cringed. “ _Stop_.”

Fortunately that was the moment Annie Cresta came in. The woman froze when she found them all there, her eyes growing a little wide. She was easily spooked, Katniss had noticed, and she sometimes had panic attacks only Finnick could ease – Jo had vaguely explained she had been in an accident where her best friend had died and she had never been the same since, stressful situations threw her in hysterical fits which was why she had given up competition; she was Mags’ unofficial assistant now from what Katniss had understood. Annie tucked a brown strand behind her ear, placing the shopping bags next to the door and frowned a little when her eyes fell on Finnick.

“Would you get dressed?” she sighed. “People don’t like it when you do that, Finnick. It makes them uncomfortable.”

“I think they like the view, my love.” he grinned, wriggling his eyebrows.

“I _really_ don’t.” Katniss grumbled and then she glared at Haymitch and Jo. “And I don’t like hearing about your sex lives either.” She pointed an accusing finger at Johanna. “You’re _disgusting_.” Then she turned it toward Haymitch. “And you’re _old_.”

He rolled his eyes. “And you’re a _prude_.” She made a face at him and he made one right back. She was pleased, at least, to see Finnick had listened to his girlfriend and had disappeared back in his bedroom to get dressed. Haymitch nodded at Annie who had perched herself on the armrest of Mags’ armchair. “Hey, sweetheart, where’s the rest of _my_ team?”

“Effie had a lot of bags… Peeta helped her. And I think they both wanted to change.” she explained.

Finnick was back with them, sitting on the floor at Johanna’s feet, long before Peeta and Effie made their apparition. Peeta was wearing a brand new white sweater that looked _very_ expensive.

“Effie’s gift.” he said when Katniss asked. “Do you like it?”

“Don’t expect us to be too impressed, we just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear.” she deadpanned with a small smile.

Effie had obviously overindulged. Everything she wore was brand new from the pink dress with a pale blue ribbon belt that ended up in a bow at the small of her back, to the pearl earrings and…

“Are those _louboutin_?” Jo asked suddenly, her eyes riveted to Effie’s heels.

Her trainer grinned and twirled her right foot this way and that so they could all admire her new purchase. “You should have said you were interested, Johanna… I bought Annie a pair, I would have brought you along… We can go tomorrow or later tonight if there is time.”

Johanna, Katniss had gathered, had a veiled interest in fashion. She liked comfortable clothes for everyday wear but give her a reason to party and she would show up in impossibly short dresses and heels that looked like murder weapons. The way she was eyeing Effie’s shoes could only be described as _envious_.

She didn’t know what the fuss was about. The heels were black with a red sole, so high she didn’t know how Effie could walk with them without falling over.

“Can’t afford it.” Jo muttered.

“Don’t be stupid.” Effie dismissed with a careless wave of her hand. “I will pay.”  

“I don’t do charity.” Johanna retorted.

Everyone was following the discussion like a tennis match, looking from one to the other.

Effie’s lips were pursed in displeasure. “Am I not allowed to buy you _presents_? I bought Annie a pair of shoes and Peeta a sweater. Fair is fair. You, Katniss and Finnick are all getting something too.”

“See?” Finnick grinned. “ _That’s_ why she’s the best mom ever.” Katniss rolled her eyes at that running joke but he wasn’t done. “I know what _I_ want. Can you convince Mags and Jo I can do a triple loop jump today?”

“Absolutely not.” Effie declared without a blink. “ _Haymitch_ taught you and _Haymitch_ will decide when you are ready to put it in an actual performance.”

“Mommy said ask Daddy and Daddy said no.” Jo taunted.

“Please don’t call Haymitch Daddy right after offering to sleep with him.” Finnick retorted. “I’ll get nightmares. Besides I called dibs on him and I’m not sharing with you. If he’s going to be someone’s dad, it’s _mine_.”

“I was there first.” Peeta cut in.

“ _We_ can share.” he decided.

Katniss sighed. “This conversation is _very_ disturbing.”

“She says that because she’s Haymitch’s favorite.” Finnick commented.

“ _Annie_ ’s my favorite.” Haymitch declared, shaking his head. “She’s sweet and she doesn’t talk half as much as all of you.”

“That’s because she’s perfect.” Finnick retorted with a loving smile for his girlfriend.

Mags tapped her walking stick against the floor twice and gestured at the clock. It was enough to send everyone into a frenzy. Katniss’ bag was already ready but Peeta went running for his, Finnick hurried to his room followed by Annie, Jo and Mags started on the way to the elevator, Katniss followed them but not quickly enough not to see the kiss Haymitch pressed against Effie’s neck…

She pretended really hard she hadn’t seen anything.

When Peeta finally caught up with her, he took one look at her face and frowned. “What happened?”

She shook her head, her nose wrinkled. “You _don’t_ want to know.”

It made him smile knowingly. “Effie and Haymitch did something _mushy,_ right? This morning when I went to fetch Effie to go shopping, he _actually_ trudged out of bed to _kiss_ her goodbye. _Right in front of me_. Granted I think he hadn’t realized I was there but…” He placed a hand on his chest and shook his head, but he was still smiling despite his attempt at looking miserable. “I have seen horrors, Katniss.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it when he was being so ridiculous.

“Is that why she bought you a sweater?” she asked. “As an apology?”

“She said you would like it.” he shrugged, looking slightly sheepish but then he was flashing her a beaming smile again. “You should have come with us this morning! I _love_ Paris. It’s _magical_.”

“Competition first, sightseeing later.” she reminded him. “Start focusing.”

It was a short walk from the hotel to the stadium and they walked as a group. Finnick was babbling nonstop, one arm around Jo’s shoulders and the other around Annie’s, Mags was trailing behind them keeping up despite the walking stick. Katniss and Peeta kept a leisured pace, sharing his earphones. He selected the French song from _Ratatouille_ and grinned at her, almost daring her to protest. She simply shook her head with fondness and hummed along. She did that a lot lately.

The competition’s skills were higher there than it was at nationals but she forced herself to remain calm and not to panic. When it became too stressful, she simply touched the pin Prim had given her, closed her eyes and remembered everything she was doing was for her sister, to get her through college. She felt calmer once she reminded herself of that simple fact.

Johanna and Finnick were beautiful on the ice – _not_ that she would ever tell them, they were too arrogant as it was – but their free program wasn’t as difficult as what they used to do the previous years. She wondered if they would stick to their national programs for the World Championships or if they would do something else entirely.

Peeta took her hand as they were about to be called. She barely listened to any of Haymitch’s advices, already focused on what she had to do once she would be on the rink.

“Hey…” Peeta said, just as they were about to take position. “Just give the best you can give. It will be alright.”

She gave more than her best.

And it was _easy_.

Something was falling into place with Peeta. She didn’t quite know what it was but she thought she was starting to understand what Effie was talking about when she said there was only one _right_ partner for you. She wasn’t scared anymore – not when he tossed her, not when she flung herself at him, not when he had to lift her – she trusted him completely, eyes closed and heart racing.

It was an odd thrill.

They ranked first.

She hugged him when the results were announced. She didn’t know why she did it because she really wasn’t a hugger but she was happy for once and he was right _there_ so she just did. 

And, _of course,_ that was the picture that went around social medias for days afterwards, with their fans – and it was still _plain weird_ to have _fans_ – relying it again and again.

She didn’t mind it too much this time.

It was a happy moment after all.

Happy moments were too few not to be remembered.

°O°

_“Airport.” she reminded him as he dropped on the plastic chair next to her, his arm automatically stretching behind her._

_“And then what?” he grumbled. “No one’s looking. I bet no one even know who we are.”_

_“You, perhaps. Me, it is another story.” she hummed, not even looking up from her magazine._

_She had bought a stack of them for the flight. Her huge sunglasses were propped on her head despite the fact he still thought it was ridiculous to use sunglasses at night. They were catching a red eye for Paris and he was already dreading the trip. He_ wanted _to see Paris but the eleven hours – or something – it would take to get there…_

_He looked around the waiting room again but the people surrounding them either truly didn’t know there was a figure skater champion amongst their midst or simply didn’t care – and to be fair_ he _wouldn’t have cared either if he had been them – Mags was nowhere in sight… He leaned in and nuzzled her neck._

_She giggled but tossed him a stern look. “Behave.”_

_“I want a drink.” he tried._

_“No, you don’t.” she retorted. “You just want an excuse to drag me into a dark corner and have your way with me and it is not happening here, Haymitch.”_

_He pouted a little, mainly because she had a point. This arrangement of theirs, this no strings attached affair, was less and less about sex. It had started with him sleeping in her bed after the night out with Chaff and his former hockey team. It had grown into something of a habit. He didn’t go back to his room, she didn’t go back to hers… They jumped on each other every chance they got…_

_It had been embarrassing at Nationals when Mags had sat them down and had hissed through clenched teeth and with cheeks slightly flushed that there should be no_ extra-sportive _activities during competitions. What they did before and after was their problem but for the two or three days when they were attending a competition, there would be no funny business._

_Effie had been so embarrassed she had looked no one in the eyes for the rest of the day._

_That hadn’t stopped them from sharing a bed during Nationals. He had never slept with a girl without_ sleeping with her _first. And he hadn’t even minded. He liked falling asleep with her in his arms, he liked the fruity smell of her shampoo and he liked it even more when she borrowed his clothes. So they had lost and finished third… He hadn’t minded holding her the night after that either. They had both been disappointed but, to her, it had been crushing. The fact that they would be sent to Switzerland as stand-ins more humiliating than not being sent at all. She had blamed herself and her knee for not holding up. She had suggested again that he should find himself another partner, one worthy of the work he had put into becoming a figure skater… He had said again he didn’t want another partner – in every sense of the word._

_“You’ve ever done it on a plane?” he asked, low enough that his voice wouldn’t carry to the family of four sitting on the other side of the lane. He hoped they weren’t taking the same flight they were because the two kids were screaming already and he wouldn’t be able to take eleven hours of_ that _._

_“No and I am not starting today.” she hummed._

_He sighed and dropped his head on her shoulder, slumping a little on his plastic chair. He was tired and grumpy and he wasn’t good at sitting still for so long without anything to engage his mind with._

_“Why don’t you do some crosswords?” she suggested, dropping a crosswords book on his lap. He opened his mouth to argue he didn’t have a pen but before he could make a sound she fished one from her handbag and handed it to him with a superior smile._

_“Show off.” he grumbled._

_“Whatever you say, dear.” she mocked._

_Boarding the plane was a nightmare and it didn’t get much better once it actually took off. First there was the little girl who had recognized Effie and was an absolute fan and didn’t want to let go of her ever again – she was gracious about it but Haymitch laughed at her all the same because he could tell she wasn’t big on small children with snot running down their nose. Then there was the guy from three rows down who pretended to be an ice skater aficionado only to flirt with her, it wasn’t subtle and it wasn’t even good flirting. Haymitch spent the whole time glowering right next to her but the guy didn’t notice or didn’t care – he thought Mags would choke to death, she muffled her laughter by pressing her scarf against her mouth and she laughed so hard tears rolled down her cheeks._

_It took almost forty-five minutes for Effie to get rid of him._

_Haymitch sulked for another hour despite her coaxing and eventually her irritated comments that he was behaving like a baby._

_“You’re going to do_ him _in the toilets?” he snarled in the heat of the argument._

_She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why, perhaps I will just do that then.”_

_She stood up and he instinctively grabbed her wrist, tugging her back down. “You go anywhere near him and I’m tossing him off the plane.”_

_“You are being a possessive jerk and I hate that.” she hissed. “I told him I wasn’t interested. What else do you want out of me?” He opened his mouth but she lowered her voice to a growl. “_ No _, I am not having sex with you on this plane.”_

_Mags was – not very convincingly – faking sleep and she tucked her chin in her scarf again, disguising her laughter in a cough._

_“You want some syrup maybe?” he taunted._

_“Manners.” Effie snapped. “_ Oh _… You_ infuriate _me!”_

_She grabbed one of her magazines and proceeded to ignore him. He was happy to sit there and sulk some more at first but it quickly grew boring. After twenty minutes, he poked her in the side. She glared at him. He glanced at Mags but she had finally fallen asleep – as had most of the people on the plane really._

_“I don’t like men drooling on you.” he mumbled with a shrug._

_It was as close to an apology as he was willing to utter._

_“Truly?_ I _enjoy it_ so much _…” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm._

_“Please.” he scoffed. “You love the attention. You_ live _for the attention.”_

_“I like the attention when they can take no for an answer and not waste almost an hour of my time.” she retorted. “I don’t understand why you react like a caveman when you know perfectly well I am not interested.”_

_His hand ended on her thigh, he wasn’t sure why._

_“How?” he asked._

_“How_ what, _now?” she sighed, flipping a page so hard there was a tearing sound._

_“How do I know you’re not interested?” he muttered, keeping his eyes riveted on the fashion picture on the glossy paper rather than on her. “It’s not like we said anything about us being… An_ us _.”_

_The magazine was slowly lowered to her lap and her hand tentatively covered his._

_“Isn’t it obvious?” she answered softly. He shrugged, running his thumb along the length of hers. She let out another long sigh. “You are an idiot. It is lucky for you you happen to be_ my _idiot.”_

_There was an insult in there but it made him smirk._

_Eventually, he ended up dozing off, his head rolling left and right. Effie snuggled against his side, their hands still trapped between her legs._

_When the plane landed, they weren’t really rested but that was why Mags had planned to arrive a day early._

_“Go get some more sleep.” she ordered as soon as they had registered into the hotel. “Relax, try to rest… Don’t do_ anything _tiring. I want you bright and early tomorrow.”_

_It was 6am in Colorado but 2pm in Paris. He knew if he went to bed now he would never adjust to the time difference, he wouldn’t sleep that night and he would be completely jetlagged the next day._

_His room was a nice room – that was the perks of traveling with a Trinket – and he tinkered around with the huge shower, washing the plane trip off his skin before getting dressed again. Effie’s room was down the hall and it took three rounds of knocking before she answered her door, still dripping wet from her own shower and clad in a white fluffy towel._

_“Come on, sweetheart, get dressed.” he smirked. “We’re sneaking out.”_

_She frowned. “Mags said nothing tiring.”_

_He rolled his eyes. “We’re in_ Paris _. We’re going exploring.”_

_“That is considered tiring.” she retorted, stepping aside to let him in. “But it does sound better than spending the whole day locked in here. Let me get dressed.”_

_“As long as I can watch…” he teased._

_She closed the bathroom door in his face and he chuckled, dropping on her bed and making himself comfortable. Getting dressed took her a while and when she emerged from the bathroom, in a tight cream skirt, a pink sweater, and a matching scarf wrapped around her hair, sunglasses firmly in place on her head again, he was torn between gaping and laughing._

_“You watched too many Audrey Hepburn movies.” he mocked, tugging on the scarf._

_She batted his hand away._ “ _You are clueless about_ fashion _.”_

_She said it as if it was a big crime._

_They sneaked around the hotel like children trying to escape their mother’s vigilance even though Mags was probably fast asleep and no one in the hotel actually cared about what they were doing. Still, he thought, trying not to get caught was part of the fun and they were breathless with laughter when they escaped the building._

_They wandered aimlessly for a while. The sun was poking from behind the clouds, locals seemed to think it was cold but to him who was used to Virginia’s weather, it was almost warm. His coat remained open, his woolen scarf loose around his neck. She asked a man for directions in a flawless French and he stared, impressed and a little aroused by the strange words she was uttering. Maybe they had a point when they said French was the language of love._

_She had been to Paris many times before, she explained and, once she got a sense of where they were, she grabbed his hand to drag him in the direction she wanted to take._

_She didn’t let go and he didn’t either._

_At some point, as they were strolling along the Seine, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she sneaked hers under his coat, around his waist, hooking her thumb in the waistband of his jeans. Her free hand came to rest on his, on her shoulder, and he entwined their fingers without thinking twice about it. They were like every other couple wandering around and there was an odd sort of kinship in that: they were young and together and everything was fine._

_They bickered over the stupidity of placing a lock on a bridge to symbolize love on the Pont des Arts – he thought it was idiotic, she thought it was romantic – and they ate some delicate pastries with a strange name as they neared the Louvre and paused to look at the glass pyramid. He decided it was hideous, she simply pouted and sprouted some things about modern art – that was how he discovered she knew quite a lot about architecture. He liked the_ Champs Elysées _less than she did but there was something amusing to watching her stare at every store. She was like a child at Christmas. They toured the Arc De Triomphe, waiting for the tourist crowd to part so they could get a glimpse of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It was a strange concept to him, to come and honor the memory of an unknown guy, but the French were big on it, Effie explained._

_She took him to see the Pantheon and they got lost in the nearby streets, accidentally stumbling on an older side of Paris with narrowed alleys full of_ bistrots _– a hybrid between a bar and a restaurant – paved pedestrian streets and people who talked loud and laughed louder. It was full of smells. Food, flowers, the slight tinge of filth of every big city…_

_They were exhausted when they reached the Trocadero and the sky was starting to turn pinkish as it set. The wind tore the scarf away from her head and she escaped his arm with a squeal to run after it. She caught it just in front of the Eiffel tower and she laughed, stretching her arms wide and tossing her head back, her hair whipped around by the wind… She was beautiful._

_Her laughter had a hysterical hint to it. It was the red eye flight catching up probably, time to call it a day and go to sleep. Haymitch felt drunk. On exhaustion. On Paris. On life. On_ her _._

_She grabbed the lapels of his coat when he caught up with her and he kissed her without even having to think about it. It was the most natural thing to do. His fingers tangled in her hair, her hands on his chest, her heart beating so fast against his…_

_He didn’t even felt self-conscious about it._

_The place was packed with tourists taking pictures, kissing, walking hand in hand…_

_They were no different. Why would they be?_

_They were just another pair of lovers lost in Paris._

_And Paris…_

_Paris had some sort of magic._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? Let me know!


	21. Chapter 21

Haymitch raised his liquor-free cocktail as a toast. “One down. One to go.”

“That’s how you coach Katniss and Peeta for the World Championships?” Finnick mocked. “Or is that how you and Effie are getting ready for the gala. That’s _soon_. You’re ready? Nervous? _Anxious?_ ” The boy flashed him a wolf-grin. “Do you need advices, old man?”

Everyone at the table laughed. Haymitch shook his head, annoyed not to be annoyed by that young peacock. The hotel bar was full and the buzz from the surrounding conversations was making his head spin and his throat parched for something a little stronger than a virgin margarita – he hadn’t even _known_ virgin margaritas existed. They had decided to celebrate the end of the competition after the gala exhibition of that afternoon and he didn’t know how to feel about everyone picking non alcoholic beverages out of deference for him. It was well-meant certainly, but it also made him _think_ about liquor and… 

“We will manage just fine, Finnick, thank you very much.” Effie cut in, stirring her iced tea with the straw distractedly. Her eyes kept shifting to the dance floor in the corner of the room but _his_ eyes were drawn to the thin silver charm bracelet around her wrist. She hadn’t been wearing it since he had come to Aspen, now _she_ _was,_ and he didn’t quite know what to make of that.

“I _can’t_ _wait_ to watch you make a spectacle of yourself.” Jo snorted. “How long do you think you will last before you fall on your ass, Trinket?”

“Longer than you did at Nationals.” Katniss retorted. “But that won’t be hard…”

The girls glared at each other but Johanna wasn’t done. “Seriously? You’re not afraid of the comparison? ‘Cause I heard Enobaria and Brutus would be skating too…”

“It’s not a competition.” he grumbled. “It’s for charity.”

“Please.” Jo scoffed. “Maybe there won’t be a jury and medals at the end of it, but _you know_ _everyone’s_ going to compare. Old glories back on ice… It’s always about who should have stayed at home and who’s the most ready for a nursing home.”

“I do believe Haymitch and I are not quite ready for the nursing home yet.” Effie hummed. “I also _do_ believe it is none of your business what we do or not.”

“I’m impatient to see you skate.” Peeta offered. “I’m sure it will be great.”

“As I am.” Mags cut in, her voice raspy. “I had always hoped I would see you skate again before I die.”

“You’ll never die, Mags.” Finnick objected. “You’re immortal.”

The old woman made a dismissive wave, smiling fondly at the boy. “Why don’t you ask your girl to dance, boy?”

Annie perked up at that and flashed Finnick a sweet smile, immediately holding out her hand. He kissed it reverently and turned it around to drop a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “My lady’s desire is my command.”

Effie nudged him with her foot under the table. “See? _That_ is how a proper gentleman behaves.” 

He lifted a challenging eyebrow. “If only you were into gentlemen and not bad boys, sweetheart…”

She narrowed her eyes at him in irritation.

“Do you want to dance?” Peeta swiftly asked Katniss, hand already outstretched.

Haymitch didn’t think Katniss _wanted_ to dance but she very much wanted to get away from their bickering, so she grabbed the offered hand and followed the boy to where Finnick and Annie were already wriggling. It was a loud pop music and it made him want to cringe.

Effie stared at him with a pointed look he ignored, sipping his cocktail slowly, until Johanna rolled her eyes and stood up, hauling her to her feet by the arm. “Come on, Trinket, we don’t need men to have fun.”

He didn’t know if it was really wise for Johanna to be perched on her brand new sparkly heels – _louboutin_ , he had been lectured at length when he had called them _shoes_ – given that her ankle was still weak but he held his tongue. Effie wanted to dance and better Jo than him.

Mags switched chairs to sit next to him so she didn’t have to strain her voice to speak in the crowded room. “Do you still have the ring?”

“What ring?” he frowned. She gave him a pointed look and his frown deepened. “How do you know about _that_?”

“Did you truly think you could get something like this past me, boy?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “You had this habit of playing with the box when you were nervous and her back was turned. You kept it in your pocket. I was never blind.”

Had he? He had never realized.

“She doesn’t know about that.” he shrugged. “Don’t tell her.”

“That’s your secret to tell, not mine.” Mags granted easily. “But are you going to _use_ it?”

“Propose?” he scorned. “That ship has sailed.”

“Has it?” she hummed. “You love her still, boy. And she never stopped loving you.”

“I’m forty.” he scoffed, not bothering to deny because she would simply glare. “Look, I thought getting married was stupid at twenty-five… But at _forty_? It’s just ridiculous.” He drummed on the table impatiently. “Besides, she’s not even… _We_ ’re not…”

“Your relationship is a work in progress.” she countered. “All relationships are.”

“What difference does it make?” he grumbled. “That ring’s been collecting dust in a drawer for years… Best to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“Let them lie too long and they die.” She clicked her tongue. “Life is short, boy.”

“You have any other banality to offer?” he snorted. “A ring on her finger won’t make anything better, Mags.”

“She thought you didn’t love her when you left.” she declared. “It would do her good to know you did.”

“She knows why I left.” he mumbled. “We discussed it.”

Well… _Discuss_ was a big word. They hadn’t really talked about it since the night of the gala. The texts were still on his phone.

“And she forgave you.” Mags insisted.

“It’s not about forgiveness…” he stated. “We’re _past_ that. It’s about _trust_.”

Trust that he wouldn’t leave again.

Trust that she would put _them_ first.

And he figured that was why she was so desperate for them to go back on the rink together. Through daily training and hours spent rehearsing, they were slowly building that back properly, not just leaning on what had been there before but rediscovering it, making sure it was strong enough to hold…

He wanted this, _her_. He wanted it _badly_. But despite everything he still had _doubts_. He was afraid he would fuck up again and she would suffer. He was afraid he would relapse and fall back on alcohol. He was afraid… _He didn’t deserve her_ and he was afraid she would realize that.  He was afraid they had been doomed from the start and they were just too stubborn to admit it fifteen years later. He was afraid she would be hurt again because of his own stupidity.

“Rule one.” he muttered under his breath.

“Rule one was never about you playing martyr.” she sighed. “Haymitch… You two are _good_ for each other. You are _better_ together. She was a spoiled little girl with an inferiority complex who was desperate to prove herself when she met you. She couldn’t have stood up to Elindra if her life had been on the line…”

“That woman is a _bitch_.” he growled. He had called Plutarch to let him know what she had tried to do – although they had no proof naturally – because he didn’t want any surprise of the sort at the World Championships. He wouldn’t put _anything_ past the dragon. What if they arrived in Canada only to find out she had managed to rule them out of the competition? Plutarch had promised he would look into it and keep her in check as much as possible – if anyone could, it was him; neither Haymitch nor Effie had ever wanted to look too closely at the nature of the friendship they shared.

“And she realized that because of you.” Mags triumphed. “You helped her understand she was more than what her mother saw. And _you_ … She…”

“You don’t have to tell me what she did for me.” he snapped. “I _know_ what she did for me.”

He had been lost before her.

He had wanted to die. Join his family and that guy he had killed. It hadn’t seemed fair for him to live when they were all dead.

It was her constant bossing him around that had saved him, her nagging and her pushing… Her _need_ to transform him into the perfect figure skater… She had worn him off every day, forcing him to work his ass off from dawn to dusk, making him so tired he had had no time for thinking when he had dropped on his bed at night… She had crawled her way into his heart and then… _Then_ he had found something to live for: their shared dreams, a future, _her_ …

“You helped too.” he whispered, embarrassed for no good reason. He had never properly thanked Mags.

“Then do me a favor, boy.” she smiled. “Never give up on her again. I never birthed any children but I found a lot of those along the way… I know Finnick, Annie and Johanna will be alright no matter what. They have Effie. But I need to know Effie will have you. And I need to know you will have her.”

“What are you talking about?” he sneered. “Stop talking like that. Sounds like you’re dying or some _shit_.”

“We are all dying a little more with every new day.” she shrugged. “I am just closer to the finish line than you are.”

“Mags…” he frowned but he was interrupted by Effie who placed a hand on his shoulder, a bright smile on her lips.

“Come dance with me.” she demanded.

“No way.” he scoffed.

“Haymitch. Let me put it in another way.” she said very seriously. “We are in Paris, they are playing a slow song… You are dancing with me.”

She dragged him up and away before he could argue some more and he automatically wrapped his arms around her waist when she locked hers around his neck.

“Bossy.” he accused.

She rested her head on his shoulder, not bothering to deny it.

“We will always have Paris, won’t we?” she hummed.

“I hate this line.” he commented.

“And yet…” she replied, a little bitterly.

“And yet.” he repeated, pressing a furtive kiss against her hair.

°O°

_“We won, we won, we won…” she kept chanting like a mantra, clinging to his arm like a child._

_“Did we?” he smirked. “I didn’t realize…”_

_“Oh, hush, Haymitch.” she grinned. “It’s the first time we win a competition. Let me_ enjoy _.”_

_Coming to Paris had been the greatest idea Mags ever had and exactly what they needed after the disaster that had been Nationals. Not only had they shared a_ perfect _afternoon in the city but they had been simply astounding during the competition itself. They had been_ flawless _, more in synch than ever before…_

_“How’s the knee?” he asked._

_She waved that question away. There was the familiar tinge of pain but she was so euphoric she didn’t even feel it. She pressed herself against his arm as they walked toward the exit of the stadium, he adjusted his grip on both of their sport bags._

_“We should celebrate.” she declared. “Where do you want to go? My treat. There are a lot of nice restaurants. We could…”_

_“Honestly, sweetheart, my idea of a good celebration right now is a pizza and a beer in our room.” he sighed. “I’m still not used to this country_ fucking _time zone.”_

_She tried not to attach too much importance to that ‘our’. He had slept in her room ever since they had arrived in France._

_“Beer is out of the question but I will make a concession and order champagne.” she bargained and then she bit down on her bottom lip. “But pizza… I suppose you can have pizza, I will see what they have on the room service menu that fits my diet.”_

_“Screw your diet, we’re celebrating and you don’t need that anyway.” he grumbled, freeing his arm from her grip to wrap it around her shoulders, drawing her closer to his side. “Like you need to lose weight… You’re having pizza with me.”_

_They climbed into a taxi in silence. They were halfway to the hotel when she cleared her throat. “I never had pizza before.”_

_His head was resting against the window, eyes closed and his eyelids fluttered open to stare at her. “Ever?”_

_She felt stupid. He had a gift to make her feel stupid. She hated that._

_“Mother…” she started and he rolled his eyes._

_“Yeah, stop right there.” he scorned. “Should have known.”_

_His hand found her thigh long before they reached their hotel and his previous exhaustion seemed to be forgotten. His hands were everywhere he could get away with in public, his fingers coiling around her nape in frustration every time they were interrupted._

_He had his hand inside the bodice of her dress before she even had time to unlock the door to her room and she was torn between giggling and vocally disapproving this improper behavior. The bags were dropped near the door and kicked away to give them more space. She spared a thought for her faithful skates being so mistreated but she was soon distracted by his mouth and fingers. He pinned her against the wooden panel, pressing a forceful kiss against her lips. Mags would be furious if she ever found they had had sex when they were supposed to perform at the closing gala the next day._

_“I thought you wanted pizza?” she grinned, as he tugged at the zipper of her dress. The dress gave and he pulled it down, taking her panties with it._

_“I’m hungry for something else.” he smirked, dropping to his knees._

_She was sure people heard her cry out from the other end of the hotel corridor ten minutes later. She vowed to get her revenge and she tore the clothes off his body long before they even reached the bed a few feet away. They tumbled between the sheets in a midst of chuckles, moans and mindless whispers._

_Afterwards, he remained draped over her for the longest time until his stomach started rumbling and he finally consented to let her go so she could call room service. She ordered entirely too much for the both of them and he chided her for it like always when he thought she was wasting food._

_To her utter horror, he didn’t even get dressed when someone brought their order, he remained where he was on the bed, his bare ass poking from between the tangled sheets, leaving her to answer the door wearing his shirt. She blushed and babbled in French to the groom who was too professional to show anything more than a blank face. She tipped generously._

_They ate on the bed, like ruffians. Pizza, she decided, wasn’t her favorite dish but she could understand why he loved it so much. She had one slice and she left him the rest of it, tired of hearing him complain that American pizzas where better than this European_ thing _and that he needed to introduce her to a proper pizza as soon as they would be back in the States. She sat crossed-legged on the foot of the bed and spooned the chocolate mousse she had ordered, her eyes glued to the TV._

_Her mother would have had a heart attack if she had seen her, she thought._

_Haymitch was lying behind her, sprawled across the bed, still naked and obviously not bothered one bit by it, his hand was under the shirt she had borrowed, tracing silly patterns on the small of her back._

_“You’re watching this like you haven’t seen it fifty times.” he teased._

_“I love_ Casablanca _.” she answered distractedly._

_“You love_ all _old movies.” he argued._

_“Not_ all _.” she hummed. “But a lot of them.”_

_She watched Ingrid Bergman delivering her iconic line ‘Play it once, Sam. For old time’s sake’ and she sighed, glancing down at him. He wasn’t looking at the TV, he was studying her, his fingers still running on her skin under the shirt. She leaned in and he immediately craned his neck to meet her halfway. It wasn’t a hurried sort of kiss, it was sweet and slow and she laughed against his mouth when he tugged her down. She caught herself on her hand and grinned._

_“We will always have Paris.” she said._

_He made a face. “Don’t quote this movie to me. It’s_ shit _. I hate this movie.”_

_“Language.” she chided him, shifting to find a more comfortable position lying next to him on the bed. “_ How _can you hate this movie? It is a masterpiece.”_

_He brushed her hair away from her face and snorted._

_“It’s_ shit _.” he insisted. “Bogart’s an idiot. He’s got the perfect girl and he lets her go with some shitty line about Paris? Here’s looking at you, kid –_ my ass _.”_

_He leaned in to steal another kiss but she drew back a little. “You are completely missing the point. He leaves her so she can have a chance at some sort of future. He leaves her so she can be_ happy _. It is so selfless… It is the greatest proof of love you can find! He loves her so much he lets her go…”_

_He rolled his eyes. “He’s an_ idiot _. You love a girl, you fight for her, you don’t let her go.” He ducked his head to nip at the delicate skin of her jaw. “_ I’ _m never letting_ you _go.”_

_He froze._

_You could have heard a pin drop._

_He didn’t move, not an inch. His face was angled down from hers, she could feel his breath rolling on her skin, one of his hand was still under the shirt pressed against her back, the other was on her arm._

_Her mind went in overdrive for a second, wild with the implications. Her heart was racing fast in her chest. And then, in a heartbeat, her panic was over. She was calm,_ serene _._

_“Well…” she said. “I am glad you would not be a good Bogart because I would be a_ terrible _Bergman.” He looked up at her, his grey eyes guarded and almost uncertain. She smiled and brushed her fingertips against his cheek, relishing in the familiar hitch of his stubble. “I would_ never _let you get rid of me so easily. I love you too much for that.”_

_The words were easy to utter but obviously they weren’t so easy to hear. His eyes widened a little and she was certain, for a second, that he would bolt from the bed and flee the room – she imagined him running through the hotel corridors stark naked and she had to bit her bottom lip because the idea was ridiculous. His hand travelled up her arm and to her neck, his touch almost ghost-like. He was firmer when he coiled his hand around her nape._

_Their lips brushed together once, twice… Her breath was caught in her throat, she felt drunk and in love and…_

_“I’m never letting you go.” he promised against her mouth. Each of his words sent a thrill down her spine._

_It was his way to say_ I love you _._

_And she was loving every part of it._


	22. Chapter 22

The _Pont Alexandre Trois_ was a little crowded at that time of night but Peeta didn’t even notice. He was laughing too hard at Katniss attempting to repeat French words. She was butchering the language with every try and listening to her singing along to _Ratatouille’_ s theme song had become his favorite thing. Without discussing it, they leaned against the ballustrade, their eyes riveted on the Eiffel Tower they could guess at in the distance.

The sun was slowly setting, turning the sky a mix of pink and light orange…

“It’s a nice view.” she sighed.

“Yes.” he answered, watching her. “Perfect view.”

“Perfect day too.” she hummed.

It _had_ been a perfect day. They had all started exploring the city in a large group but at some point Finnick and Annie had disappeared and they had lost the others in Montmartre. He had been too fascinated by the artists sketching in the streets and Katniss had lingered with him. They had made a half-hearted attempt at looking for them but they could have done without Haymitch and Effie’s bickering or Johanna’s constant taunts so… They hadn’t tried _too hard_.

Exploring Paris by themselves had been amazing. He was happy to have shared that with her alone and he knew already that it would remain one of his best memories. Whatever happened in the future, they would always have this day in Paris. It was a comforting thought.

“ _You_ ’re perfect.” he replied without really meaning to.

“No, I’m not.” she scoffed, glancing at him. “Nobody’s perfect, Peeta. Except Prim. Prim is perfect.”

And she was missing her sister, he knew. She couldn’t text or call from Paris although they had exchanged some emails thanks to the hotel’s wifi. But they had bought her enough silly trinkets and taken enough pictures with Prim in mind that he knew her sister would be happy.

“ _To_ _me_ , you are.” he shrugged. “Flaws and all.”

The sun was almost gone now and it was either romantic or cliché. He was sure she was thinking the latter but Peeta chose to see the romance.

“Peeta…” she hesitated. He could hear a tinge of fear in her voice when he leaned in but he did it anyway, _slowly_ , leaving her plenty of time to step back. She didn’t. So he brushed his lips against hers tentatively and then a little more firmly. She didn’t respond and he started drawing back, annoyed at himself for having spoiled the mood, but just as he was retreating she followed, pressing her mouth against his without finesse or technique. He wondered if she had kissed her hockey player before or if he was the first. And then he stopped wondering because she was kissing him and it was _glorious_.

He wanted the kiss to go on and on but when air became a problem she drew back with a gasp, her eyes a little wide. She licked her lips, averting her gaze, her cheeks flushed… He wanted to tuck her long loose hair behind her ear but he didn’t dare. He implicitly knew she would want space now. She had walls around her and he intended to worn his way through but he also knew it would take time and trust.

“Do you want to go on walking?” he suggested. “We can go all the way to the _Trocadero_ if you’re up for it.”

She nodded eagerly, dashing away at a brisk pace, leaving him to follow – like always. He launched another topic of discussion she would be comfortable with – their programs for the World Championships – and let any talk about the kiss die.

It was alright.

He could wait.

°O°

“We’re too old for hand-holding.” he complained when she slipped her hand in his.

Effie shot him a pointed glance and he rolled his eyes and rested his case. The sun was setting, they had lost everyone else, and they were reaching the Trocadero. The Eiffel Tower was already looming over them and she was having an uncanny feeling of _déjà-vu_.

They had spent the whole day retracing their twenty year old selves’ footsteps. They had strolled along the Seine, they had walked up and down the _Champs Elysées_ , they had visited _Les Jardins des Tuileries_ and stopped to admire the glass pyramid outside the Louvre… They had walked all the way to the Pantheon and had gotten lost in the surrounding streets, they had studied Notre-Dame from afar and had stopped to eat delicious pastries…

They had bickered and argued all the way about nonsensical things but they had laughed too. They had walked in a companionable silence, her arm loop around his… 

And now they had reached the Trocadero just as the sun was setting and she was half expecting the wind to tear the scarf off her neck. She would run after it and he would catch her and they would kiss right there, in the midst of tourists and street peddlers, completely anonymous in the crowd.

The wind never picked up.

And they weren’t twenty anymore.

They passed the Eiffel Tower, bought two hot chocolate and two brownies in the nearest Starbucks, and eventually found a free bench where they sat, exhausted after the whole day of walking. Her feet weren’t thanking her for the high heels she had insisted on wearing.

“May I ask you a question?” she hummed as she took a sip of her chocolate. It was scalding and it burned her tongue but that was how she loved it best.

“Just did, didn’t you?” he mocked. She narrowed her eyes at him and he brushed his finger on her brow. “Stop doing that, you’ll give yourself lines and then I won’t ever hear the end of it.” He shrugged. “Never needed permission to ask before, right?”

She played with the card ring surrounding the paper cup while he adjusted the collar of his coat. He didn’t have a scarf and it was cold. She took her time trying to find the perfect wording what she wanted to ask, her eyes retracing the hastily handwritten _Effie_ on the cup. Her brownie was forgotten on her lap, still enclosed in its brown paper bag. Haymitch’s had long disappeared in his stomach.

“Shoot, sweetheart.” he prompted. “You’re being weird today.”

“I have been thinking…” She let her voice trail off, half expecting the joke, and he didn’t disappoint.

“You hurt yourself?” he snorted.

She had long grown immune to those sorts of taunts and thus she barely pursed her lips at him in irritation. She took another sip of chocolate and tried to pretend her hands weren’t shaking with nerves.

Why was it that she was feeling as if for every step forward they took two steps back? Worse, she knew _she_ was leading the dance, here. He simply followed. They had kissed and made out until she was sure they would both die of frustration, but _still_ every time she stopped it before it could go too far and he _never_ pressured her for more. He wasn’t happy with letting her lead but he was willing to give that to her because he knew that was the only way to mend their relationship – or at least that was what she thought. But…

“Are the children our Casablanca?” she asked.

He blinked and blinked again, his eyebrows shooting up. “Okay, you’ll have to develop. Not following, sweetheart.”

She sighed. It was clear to her. Bogart and Bergman met in Paris, fell in love and lived happily ever after for a while until war separated them for good and they found themselves back together, by pure chance, in Bogart’s bar in Casablanca. Their passion rekindled and they realized their feelings never faded or disappeared, they found Paris back in Casablanca but it only lasted a short while, then they separated again because life wasn’t a fairy tale. It had taken her a long time to stop believing in perfect happy endings.

Their partnership in their youth was their Paris and now they had found each other again and they were trying to get Paris back but she was afraid this whole adventure was simply Casablanca and that it would end on a sad note with them agreeing to keep fond memories of Paris.

“Does this have an expiration date?” she clarified. He had said he wanted her back, wanted _everything_ back, but back in the days he had also apparently been ready to propose and that hadn’t stopped him from leaving her in Japan and never looking back. “Am I going to wake up one day to find the other side of the bed empty and you gone? Are you… Are you going to leave me alone again? I’ve grown used to being single, you know. My mother thinks it is a shame but there are advantages in being a spinster.”

“You’re no spinster.” he scoffed. “You could have had any man out there.”

“Yes, but I wanted you.” she retorted. “And _none of them_ were _you_. You do not have to tell me how pathetic it is to remain hung up on a young flame for fifteen years because, trust me, I know.”

“If you’re pathetic, then I’m pathetic too.” he sighed. “Look… Can’t know what the future holds, yeah? Can’t promise not to hurt you again. Can’t promise everything will be rainbows and butterflies and unicorns. Can’t promise _shit_.”

“Can you promise you will never leave like you did again?” she whispered. “Can you promise if you ever decide to leave, you will be clear about your reasons? That we will discuss it like adults? I can’t live fifteen other years in the dark, wondering what I did wrong… I _can’t_.”

He rubbed his stubble covered chin with a woolen gloved hand. “I can promise _that_ , I guess.”

She cleared her throat. “Alright, then.”

They remained silent for a while. They drank their chocolate and she ate her brownie. Night had fallen and it was probably time to head back to the hotel, she still needed to pack for the flight and she was certain she would need to pack _for_ _him_ too if she didn’t want him to make them late the next morning. Just as she was about to suggest it, his forefinger hooked the sleeve of her coat up and brushed against the silver bracelet resting just above the hem of her leather glove.

“You’re wearing it again.” he observed.

“I am.” she simply offered.

He gently tucked the sleeve back down but his hand stayed on her wrist.

“You’re sending mixed signals.” he remarked.

“No.” she denied. “I want to go forward. I want…” She covered his hand with hers and smiled. “I _want_. I think we can… Maybe not _repair_ everything but I _do_ think we can build something new. If you want to.”

It was painfully obvious to her that those words were terrifying him and that he was fighting an instinctive flight response. It meant the world to her that he stayed right where he was and barely allowed his grey eyes to dart away from hers.

“I want to.” he said, a little too firmly, as if he wanted to convince himself. “Not sure _how_ but I want to.”

“We will… figure it out.” she promised, squeezing his hand. “Together.”

°O°

_Something ugly that felt a lot like jealousy was stirring in Haymitch’s chest, trying to claw its way out. He tapped his foot on the floor with annoyance, the plastic covered blade of his skate providing a soft soundtrack to his little seething party._

_He didn’t like watching Effie skate with someone else._

_All the more so if that someone was Brutus._

_He didn’t know who had this stupid idea of a US team common photo shoot for the Olympic Games but it was starting to grate on his nerves. He had grown used to those kinds of things but nobody had ever asked them to switch partners before, to prove there was an unity between the lot of them. They usually posed all together and they were done with it. But no… No… That photographer had brand new revolutionizing ideas consisting on making Effie skate with Brutus while he took picture after picture._

_“Stop fretting.” Enobaria sneered next to him. “He won’t break her. Not his style. You better watch your feet when it’s our turn though. That’s_ my _style.”_

_He hadn’t even_ thought _of that. Trickery and foul play wasn’t uncommon in that field. Brutus wouldn’t though. He was too much of a good guy for that. And he doubted Enobaria would either. There was no love lost between the four of them but they all played fair and they were all on friendly enough terms outside of the competition season. Winning by cheating wouldn’t have felt like winning._

_“Still bitter about Minneapolis?” he mocked._

_“Why?” she snorted. “Haven’t you looked at the betting boards?_ We’ _re favorites.”_

_“And we’re twice World Champions.” he replied. “We’ve got this.”_

_“Overconfident, are we?” she taunted._

_He was so busy glaring at the woman that he missed what happened on the rink. He saw Brutus tossing Effie like_ he _had done a thousand times from the corner of his eyes but it ended with a shriek and a crash. He was up and running before he even realized what was going on, he barely took the time to discard the blades’ protections before he jumped over the safety wall enclosing the rink._

_Brutus was kneeling next to her, apologizing profusely, the photographer was hovering nearby, asking if she needed him to call for help… And she was still sitting down. He crashed into Brutus, pushing him away from her and standing protectively in between them._

_“It was an accident, man!” Brutus swore, raising his two hands in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m really…”_

_“I’m going to_ kill _you.” he growled._

_“I don’t know what happened!” Brutus insisted but Haymitch was already clenching his hands into fists and he would have pounced if Enobaria hadn’t swiftly glided in front of her partner._

_“What is it with you two and starting brawls on the ice?” the woman sneered. “It was an accident. Let it go.”_

_Suddenly there were arms around his waist and the familiar feeling of a chin propped between his shoulder blades. “It was an accident, Haymitch. I am fine. I just forgot he wouldn’t compensate for my knee like you do. It was my fault. Not his. Calm down. I am fine.”_

_He must have been a scary sight, he mused, because everyone was staring at him like he was about to snap and murder the whole room – not such a stretch given his history, he figured._

_“This_ fucking _experiment stops here.” he spat, pointing an accusing finger at the photographer. “She skates with_ me _. End of the story.” He turned to snarl at Brutus. “You stay away from my girl or you get my fist in your face, you get it?”_

_“Haymitch!_ Enough _!” Effie gasped. “I am_ so deeply _sorry, Brutus. It was my fault, absolutely_ my _fault.”_

_Annoyed at her, he scoffed and angrily skated in the direction of the locker room. As he was nearing the doorway, he turned to glide backwards, glaring at her. “Partner with him again and you can ask_ him _to take you to the Olympics, sweetheart.”_

_He didn’t even know why he was so furious when he stormed to the locker room. He had been afraid she had gotten hurt – and he didn’t even care about the competition, he simply couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt in any way – and he had_ hated _watching Brutus putting his paws on her in a way that was_ his _prerogative. Skating with someone was intimate, private… It felt a lot like having a lover in a way, hands learned to grab and touch in a certain fashion, bodies moved together…_

_He dropped on the bench and angrily unlaced his skates. His fingers were shaking and he struggled to unknot them._

_He wasn’t surprised to feel her presence at the door but he ignored her, fighting to free his ankle from the skate._

_“You were out of line.” she declared. “It was nothing but an accident.”_

_“_ You _were out of line.” he retorted. “Why did you have to say yes to that guy for? We don’t switch partners.”_

_“And there I thought you were simply worried about me…” she huffed. “I should have known this was one of your caveman demonstrations of possessiveness.”_

_“I’m not…” he started to shout only to snap his jaw shut and focus back on his skate. “Whatever. Get out of my sight.”_

_When had she ever done what he asked her to? She strode closer and sat on the bench next to him, bending in two to bat his hands away. In three seconds flat she had the knots undone and he was free to take off the skates. And, of course, he didn’t do it because now that he was free to leave her behind he had lost the will._

_“Are you done having your temper tantrum?” she asked flatly._

_“I don’t like men touching you like that.” he growled. “And I don’t like you skating with someone else. You’re_ mine _.”_

_“Yes.” she stated. “I think you just announced that to the whole world. It is probably something of an open secret now anyway but I can assure you Enobaria and Brutus are not fooled in the slightest. As for that photographer…” She sighed. “Well, I suppose it won’t be the worst rumor. I fell and you freaked out. That will explain your behavior even if you were unforgivably rude.”_

_“What difference does it make?” he grumbled. “Everyone will know after the Games anyway.”_

_“Will they?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Did we make a decision to come out publicly? Did I miss it?”_

_He rolled his eyes. They had talked about getting engaged a few times. He wasn’t fooling himself into thinking they could keep_ that _from the public. If anything the dragon’s screams of outrage alone would alert journalists in a fifty miles radius._

_“So not the point.” he muttered._

_“Why are you being jealous when you know for a fact I am not interested in Brutus?” she snapped. “_ That _is the point. He was never improper once, he was very careful about where he put his hands and even if he hadn’t been, don’t you think I would have called him out on it? Don’t you trust me at all?”_

_“Of course I trust you.” he retorted. “I just don’t like it.”_

_“But…” she argued._

_“Look, I don’t like it, okay?” he cut her off. “Maybe I’ll go back out there and skate with Enobaria and we’ll see how you feel about it, alright? It’s just…_ not right _. I’m your partner. It’s supposed to be you and me._ Together _.”_

_She searched his eyes for the longest time and eventually placed a hand on his cheek._

_“It is.” she promised. “Together. We are a team.”_

_“We’re more than a team.” he mumbled._

_“Well,_ that _goes without saying.” she grinned, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. “You are a very silly man, Haymitch. You are the only partner I will have until the end of my days, on the ice and outside of it. I know this with every fiber of my being.”_

_He snorted. “Now,_ you _’re being silly. Watched too many flick chicks again, have you?”_

_She shook her head but the smile never left her mouth._

_“Just wait and see.” she promised._


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of steamy times!

**_ 23. _ **

The crash and the cursing made both of them freeze. Katniss was the first to recover and she winced as she watched Effie picking herself up and brushing ice from her training pants. She and Peeta were practicing lifts on the floorboards next to the rink, having left room for Haymitch and Effie to rehearse.

And clearly, it wasn’t going well.

“I am fine.” Effie declared preemptively, holding both of her hands in front her in a peace offering.

“I _told_ you this wasn’t a _fucking_ good idea!” Haymitch snarled. “We said no complicated moves and those lifts…”

“They are not complicated, Haymitch.” she sighed. “We did worse.”

“Yeah, _fifteen fucking years ago.”_ he spat.

“Language.” she retorted.

Katniss rolled her eyes and tapped Peeta’s shoulder so they could go back to work but her partner had other ideas. “It’s not that it’s too complicated, you’re doing it wrong.”

She lifted her eyebrows. It was one thing for them to criticize their coaches’ training in private, it was entirely another to call them out on it to their faces. _Obviously_ , they were doing _everything_ wrong – starting by accepting to skate in public after so long because, as Jo had pointed out, everyone was waiting for it – but it wasn’t for _them_ to say. _They_ weren’t the coaches, here.

“Who’s got an Olympic medal and two World Champions titles in this room, boy?” Haymitch snapped. “I know how to do this. It’s a simple lift.”

“Two seconds ago, it was too complicated.” Effie remarked.

“You, shut up.” Haymitch growled. “It’s _your_ fault. We’re supposed to go public with this in four days, we’re nowhere near ready and you bought me a _fucking_ pink costume!”

“It is _burgundy_ and I call it revenge.” she replied calmly. “Would you listen to Peeta’s advice now? I would like to _not_ end up on the ice again.”

“I don’t need his advice.” he sneered. “I know what’s wrong!” He held out his hand in front of her face. Katniss could clearly see the tremors from where she was standing. “You’re _fucking_ stubborn. I told you I couldn’t do this. _I told you_!”

Effie remained perfectly calm and composed. She barely lifted an eyebrow. “Yes. You also told me you would never be a figure skater, if I recall. You are just suffering from nerves, Haymitch.”

“Nerves, my ass!” he growled. “We’re gonna make fools of ourselves! How come you don’t care about that?”

“Because I trust you and I know we can do this and it will be amazing just like it always was.” she answered.

“If they start kissing, I’m out of here.” Katniss muttered to Peeta.

She immediately regretted talking about kissing. _Their_ kiss had never been discussed. It had stayed in Paris and she wondered what that meant that he was so willing to give her some space. Was it because he knew she needed it or had it been so terrible he didn’t care for a repeat? She had kept waiting for the awkwardness to creep in but they were… normal, _good_. They trained and had movie nights and sometimes she sang as they worked out or stretched and he always listened with that goofy smile on his face… They were _good_. And she didn’t know what it meant.

She had thought about asking Prim but there was something too… _private_ to it. She could have reached out to Gale, she figured, but they had gone from texting every day to once a week those days. He was busy with working at the mine, hockey practice and Madge. He was busy forgetting about her. And she was busy… not thinking about him a lot, to be honest. When she wanted to share something, her first reflex was to seek Peeta out not to text Gale.

It made her feel sad somehow, like she had lost something.

“You’re _bloody_ delusional.” Haymitch accused but he sounded placated.

“Yes.” Peeta approved. “Let’s run because that’s their _we’re going to make out behind a close door and believe the kids can’t hear_ face.”

Effie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at them but Haymitch simply smirked. No kissing followed. Still, they put on their shoes and didn’t linger longer than necessary. They relocated to the gym and went on practicing lifts until dinner time rolled around.

She kept glancing at Peeta but every time he caught her eyes he would simply smile at her as if he knew something she didn’t.

“I have something for you.” Effie declared at the end of the meal, before they could all scatter like they usually did every night. “Wait here for a minute, please.”

“What is she up to?” Katniss frowned, watching her hurrying away, perched on her towering heels.

“No idea.” Haymitch shrugged. “You never know with her. Might bring back brand new color coded schedules…”

They all snickered at that because Effie _was_ big on schedules and organization and she was always put out when they lost the glossy papers she kept printing for them.

But Effie didn’t come back with schedules. She came back with two small velvet boxes. Faced with their puzzled faces, she cleared her throat.

“The idea came to me in Paris…” she explained. “Once the charity gala is over, everything will go fast… The World Championships will be here before we know it and… Well, I was thinking we should show everyone we are a team so… I bought us matching tokens.”

“Matching tokens.” Haymitch repeated flatly.

“Yes.” she smiled, nervousness fluttering on her face as if she wasn’t quite sure how the idea would be received. “Well, Katniss already has her pin and I have my hair clip…” She touched the butterfly hair clip she often used to keep her hair up, it was painted gold. “I thought we could all use something golden. As a good luck token. So… Here.” She handed one box to Peeta and another to Haymitch. “We are a team.”

“It’s a beautiful thought, Effie.” Peeta offered.

“Yes.” Katniss nodded. “Thank you, Effie. For everything.”

She hadn’t been under any obligation to take them up on their training offer in the first place and Katniss thought she had done more than anyone could have ever expected. It was in huge parts thanks to her if they had reached the level they were now at.

A delighted smile burst on their trainer’s lips and she turned to Haymitch, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t say anything, he simply outstretched his hand and she grabbed it, her smile softening a little.

Peeta’s token was a locket that was, for now, devoid of pictures. As for Haymitch’s…

“That’s a manacle.” he scoffed.

“That is a perfectly lovely bangle.” Effie retorted.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, for a pimp maybe.”

Effie pursed her lips. “Well, _nobody_ is forcing you to _wear_ it. I was just trying to do something _nice_.” She stormed away before he could answer.

“This woman’s a pain.” he declared to no one in particular.

“You hurt her feelings.” Katniss frowned. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“You hurt the boy’s feelings on a daily basis and I see no one lecturing you.” Haymitch grumbled. “Sort out your own stuff and keep clear from mine.”

He pushed his chair back and stomped away.

Katniss and Peeta exchanged a look and they sighed with perfect synchronicity.

“Movie?” he suggested.

“Yes.” she approved.

They ended up in their favorite sitting-room, curled up on opposite sides on the couch as the movie Peeta had chosen played on the huge TV screen – he was still bent on corrected her lack of pop culture. The movie was black and white and she only followed half of it, too distracted by the warmth of Peeta’s thigh against her shins. She shifted to find a more comfortable position and ended up sitting straight next to him. He shot her an inquisitive glance but she ignored it, pretending not to notice.

Eventually he outstretched his arm on the back of the couch and it somehow ended up around her shoulders. She decided that was fine. That was still… _friendly_. It had nothing to do with kisses on bridges at sunset.

How she ended up half sprawled on his chest, she didn’t know.

Her eyes fluttered closed at some point, her head rolled against his neck and it seemed her whole body followed suit. He was warm and she was tired and being snuggled against him made her feel safe. She fell asleep almost immediately and startled awake a _long_ time later.

The TV screen had turned blue, probably when the movie had ended, and it was the only source of light in the room. She was sprawled on Peeta who was lying on his back on the couch and it _couldn’t_ be comfortable. There was a blanket draped around her. The arms encircling her waist tightened when she tried to get up and she realized she wasn’t the only one awake.

“Go back to sleep.” he slurred.

“But…” she tried to argue because he would wake up with a crick in the neck and…

“Katniss… Sleep.” he mumbled, his fingers burying in her loose braid.

It was one thing to accidentally fall asleep, it was completely another to do it purposefully. And yet she found herself lying back down, wriggling to find a comfortable position and blushing when he groaned. Her thigh brushed against something that was… harder than usual – and, yes, accidents happened when you partnered with a boy but she usually didn’t notice – and she forced herself to remain calm and not to be alarmed by it. He was half-asleep and it wasn’t really his fault. 

She closed her eyes and drifted off again.

It was the best sleep she had in a while.

°O°

_She smiled when she heard the shower’s door opening and closing. She loved that morning ritual. She always got up a second before the alarm clock started ringing except for those times when Haymitch managed to hold her back, she was usually in the shower for five minutes when she heard the clock ring for a second time, five more minutes after that he usually joined her under the warm water._

_That morning was no exception. He brushed her wet hair aside and pressed a kiss on her shoulder._

_“Good morning.” She grinned._

_“’Morning.” He answered sleepily, his lips trailing up the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access, her skin itched where his stubble rubbed against her skin. “Got something for you.”_

_“Yes, I can feel it.” she laughed. His erection was poking at the small of her back._

_“Okay. I’ve got two things for you then.” he chuckled against her shoulder, his hands roaming on the front of her body._

_“A gift!” she exclaimed. “Why, it is a day for surprises…”_

_Haymitch wasn’t_ huge _on big gestures. They had been together for a while now but she could count on one hand the number of times he had given her anything resembling a gift. But when he did, it was always sweet. It was never the expensive flowers Seneca sometimes ordered for her, or earrings, necklaces and haute couture dresses… But sometimes, he picked up a wild flower in the woods on their jog or he would declare they were having a movie night – she secretly called them date nights but he had bristled at the term the only time she had used it so she kept it to herself – and they always ended up eating things her mother would have killed her for. She laughed a lot with Haymitch. Of course, he infuriated her on a daily basis and they shouted at each other more often than not but having him in the house had made it a happy place. It didn’t feel like just an empty house anymore. It felt like a home._

_“It’s your birthday.” he muttered, almost reproachfully._

_“You actually remembered.” she hummed, reaching behind her to coil a hand around his nape. “I am impressed.” He was not big on dates and important events either. “Unfortunately, we do not have time for this now, Haymitch… I need to wash my hair and then we have to go for a run…”_

_“We’re on holidays.” he retorted, his hand slipping between her legs. “Mags’ already gone.”_

_She leaned against his chest by reflex, her eyes fluttering closed. “Not yet.” she countered. She had rented a villa on the coast. After the 97 World Championships, they needed to get_ away _for a while. They needed to regroup and to escape the media attention that was becoming suffocating. They also needed to get away from Aspen and from her mother who kept dropping hints about her finding another partner… They would be leaving in two days and she hoped it would go well, she hoped they weren’t going for too much too fast… “We will go running on holidays too. Next year is an Olympic year. We cannot go soft.”_

 _“One thing I’m never gonna be with you is soft.” he snorted, grabbing her hips to draw her against him, to make her_ feel _just how_ not soft _he was._

_“We will go running on holidays.” she repeated._

_“Not at six am.” he tempered._

_“Not at six am.” she granted, turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. “I can enjoy a lie-in too, you know.”_

_His grey eyes twinkled with amusement. “No you can’t. But I’ll find ways to keep you in bed.”_

_“You will have to be creative.” she challenged._

_“I’ll be creative.” he promised. “Now shut it, sweetheart. Let me give you your first gift…”_

_It was very late by the time they got out of the shower, he had insisted on helping with the shampoo and the body gel and they had had sex another time. The whole schedule was disrupted but she couldn’t quite convince herself to be angry about it, not when they tumbled on the bed as soon as they were out of the bathroom, kissing and touching again because they couldn’t help themselves. Lounging in bed all day was tempting but that was what holidays were for and they weren’t on holidays yet. Eventually, she convinced him they should get dressed. He was always quicker about that than she was and he disappeared for a while – probably to his room – while she finished getting ready._

_She was sitting on her bed, lacing her running shoes on when he came back and tossed something clumsily wrapped in a glittery paper on the sheets next to her._

_“Happy birthday.” he muttered, his eyes avoiding hers._

_She opened it slowly, with a carefulness that annoyed him, she could tell. He was the kind to tear wrapping paper to get to the present but she wasn’t. She found a red velvet box inside and she frowned. “You bought me jewelry…”_

_He shuffled awkwardly on his feet, slightly defensive. “It’s nothing big.”_

_She begged to differ because he had bought her_ jewelry _and she was certain it was a turning point in their relationship. Something…_ important _. It_ felt _important. Jewelry_ lasted _._

_She opened the box and smiled when she found a thin silver charm bracelet inside. She actually chuckled when she spotted the obviously custom made charms: there were four skates, a goose, a dragon, a bottle and a medal._

_“I love it.” she declared, handing out her wrist. “Fasten it for me?”_

_He rolled his eyes and grumbled about how she was unable to do anything by herself but he sat next to her on the bed and did as she requested. She didn’t comment, she knew he was uncomfortable and it was his way of falling back on a more familiar ground._

_“The girl at the shop said you can add more charms later.” he mumbled._

_“It seems like you found the perfect gift.” she teased. “This should become a tradition. You can buy a new charm every year. This is a long term investment.”_

_“Chaff said I should have gone for lingerie.” he snorted. “Maybe he had a point.”_

_She straddled his lap, locking her arms around his neck, and shaking her wrist a little to get used to the bracelet’s weight. “But it is_ my _birthday. Lingerie would work better for_ your _birthday…”_

_“Shame.” he smirked. “I saw some kinky things looking for a gift for you.”_

_“Kinky things are always welcomed.” she grinned. “You should never hesitate to buy me kinky lingerie.”_

_She leaned in to kiss him because that bracelet required proper thanks. She wasn’t exactly surprised when the kiss grew heated or when he ended up flopping on his back, bringing her with him. She kept kissing him, allowing him his wandering hands, accepting they would never go running that day._

_She did love her bracelet and she did love that it was something they could add on._

_It felt like a promise of a future._

°O°

Effie had locked herself in the bathroom, she was taking a bath and she had told him under no uncertain terms that she wanted some time alone so Haymitch wandered around the house, looking for something to do. Not that he wanted to apologize anyway but every time his eyes fell on the heavy bangle around his wrist, he couldn’t help but wince. Silver would have already been _bad_ , but _gold_? She knew his tastes. It wasn’t the first gift she gave him… What had shot through her head? Couldn’t she have gotten him golden cufflinks or something more… _discreet_?

The kids were watching a movie when he walked past the smallest living-room. He wandered to the balcony and looked at the stars for a while, wondering – not for the first time in that exact spot – what he was playing at. The charity gala was such a source of anxiety it was a good thing there was not a drop of liquor left on the estate, he wanted some. He _needed_ some. He glanced at his quivering fingers and closed his fists but it didn’t stop the shaking.

He spent a long time in the cool air, trying to get a hold on himself and his demons. When he walked past the living-room, the kids were curled up on the couch, Peeta crushed under Katniss’ body, apparently asleep. He rolled his eyes and stepped inside to toss the blanket usually resting on the back of the couch on the two of them. They didn’t need either of them to get a cold now.  

Peeta’s eyelids fluttered open as he tucked them in and he refused to be embarrassed of getting caught doing _that_.

“Smooth, boy.” he snorted, nodding to the girl asleep on his chest.

Peeta looked down, his hand coming to protectively cradle the back of her head over the cover. The kid didn’t look completely awake to Haymitch and he shook his head, marveling at the stupidity of young boys in love, in the privacy of his own head. He reached for the remote to turn the TV off but Peeta stopped him.

“No, leave it.” he mumbled. “I’ll carry her to bed when the movie’s over….”

“Sure, you will.” Haymitch chuckled, humoring him by letting the movie on. He still switched off the lights on his way out of the room. “’Night, kid.”

“Night.” Peeta answered, already on his way back to sleep.

He had his own girl problems waiting in the bedroom. Effie was already in bed and he didn’t switch the lights on. He knew she wasn’t asleep even though her back was turned to him, he knew what her breathing sounded like when she was asleep and that was not it. He slipped his sweatshirt and pants off, climbing into bed wearing nothing but his undershirt and his boxers. He placed a hand on her hip but she batted it away.

“ _Seriously_?” he scowled.

“I am angry in case you didn’t notice.” she hissed.

“You’re _always_ angry about something or other.” he retorted. “And I’m wearing it, okay? What else do you want?” She stubbornly remained silent and he rolled his eyes. “You _knew_ I would hate it. Why did you even buy _this_? It’s flashy and _fucking_ heavy. What were you trying to do? _Brand me?”_

She gave a tiny shrug but didn’t turn around to face him. “I thought it would make it harder for you to forget me.”

“Forget you…” he repeated. He pushed on her shoulder to make her roll on her back. She did, but her head remained turned away from him until he grabbed her chin and _forced_ her to look at him. “You think I _ever_ forgot you? Thought we’ve been over this, sweetheart.”

She hooked a finger around the bangle and tugged his hand away from her face and closer to her heart, a pout on her face. “Maybe I _am_ branding you.”

Having his hand on her chest always made it hard to focus but he made a valiant effort because he knew she was trying to distract him. “Don’t need to. You’ve got me. We’re partners.”

“We were partners before.” she argued. “It didn’t stop you from leaving.”

“I left because…” he snapped.

“I know.” she cut him off. “I know why you left and I know I am not blameless and I forgive you for it. But it doesn’t make it easier to trust you will stay this time, to trust you won’t leave again in a stupid attempt at protecting me.”

He sighed and shrugged. “So what? You want to stop?”

“No, I don’t want to _stop_!” she scorned. “How can you miss the point when it is so _glaring_? I want you to be with me and only with me and I don’t want you to leave me ever again but I have trouble believing that you will. How much more plainly  must I…”

He crushed her mouth under his to make her fall silent. She always talked to much.

“You want me to wear the stupid bangle as a reminder we’re in this together.” he grumbled against her lips. “That’s it?”

“I suppose so…” she whispered.

“ _Shitty_ logic.” he commented.

“Language.” she chided him.

“Like you don’t love me talking dirty in bed.” he snorted, pressing a kiss against her throat. “The kids are sleeping together.”

“What?” she shouted, sitting up, eyes wide.

“ _Calm down._ ” he chuckled. “They _fell asleep_ on the couch. It’s fine.”

“It is not!” she protested. “You know as well as I do that falling asleep on the couch leads to other things! It did enough times for us on that very same couch! Is Katniss on the pill? Do they have condoms? Did anyone ever have the safe sex talk with them?”

She was working herself up in such a frenzy, he couldn’t help but smirk. “They’re of age, you know. And they’re not actually _our_ kids.”

She glared at him. “You will have the talk with Peeta first thing in the morning, do you hear me? I will tackle Katniss.”

“Oh, I bet she will love that…” he mocked. “Look, I’ll give the boy condoms if it makes you feel better but I don’t think they need pointers. And maybe it would kick the sulk off Katniss’ face to have a little fun down there…”

“You are disgusting.” she declared.

His eyes were sparkling as his hand found her thigh under the sheets. “Maybe it would kick the sulk off _your_ face to have a little fun down there…” He brushed his fingers up and down her inner thigh a few times, venturing under the edge of her nightgown, encouraged when she parted her legs a little.

“Haymitch…” she whispered, half a protest and half a plea. There were limits they hadn’t yet crossed. They had been making out like teenagers for weeks now but they had never really touched where they really wanted to be touched, not _underneath_ their clothes at least.

He nudged her down until she was lying on her back and his mouth was against her throat, slowly retracing the line of her collarbone.

“Let me make your feel good, Effie.” he requested. “I’m wearing the bangle, I’m keeping the reminder… Let _me_ remind _you_ …” His mouth reached the swell of her breast and she arched a little, seeking _more_ than the light brushing of his lips. He obliged by capturing a nipple between his teeth over the fabric of her nightgown and torturing it. “Let me make you feel good… I don’t want anything else. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Haymitch…” she gasped, as his hand trailed over her panties, teasing…

Maybe it would help with the routine for the gala, he thought in the distant part of his brain that wasn’t clouded by lust. They weren’t ready for sex, they still didn’t trust each other and themselves enough for that, but maybe… Maybe just a little taste of the past would be enough to remind them they could work together as if they were of one mind.

“Yes or no?” he hummed, switching breast. He bit down on the erected peak straining the fabric and she cried out in pleasure. “Effie?”

“Yes…” she breathed out. “Yes… God, yes…”

It was all he needed. He let his mouth trail down over the silky fabric of her gown, pushing off the sheets and blankets on his way down, bundling the nightgown at her waist. Her panties were discarded and he went to work, bringing her to the edge and keeping her there, taking his own pleasure in delaying her orgasm, in teasing and playing until she was wriggling and whining incoherent threats about killing him if he didn’t get on with it.

He was painfully hard when he finally allowed her to come but he ignored it, pressing his mouth against hers. She was limp and weak but she still pushed him on his back, her hands flying to the waistband of his underwear.

“No.” he said, cupping her face to draw her into another kiss. “That was for you. It’s fine, sweetheart.”

“But I want to…” she whispered.

“And I want _you_.” he countered. “Anything else won’t be as good.”

Her eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “This is insulting. I am very talented with my hands. And my mouth. And my tongue.”

“I know.” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “ _Fuck,_ I _know_ …” And the mere thought of it was making him twitch with _desire_. “But it’s been years and I want _you_.” She pursed her lips and he knew what she was going to say so he cut her off with a kiss. “It’s _fine,_ sweetheart. We’ll do that when you trust me enough for it, not just to get orgasm even.”

She searched his eyes for a moment and eventually settled down, bringing the blankets back up before burrowing against his side.

“I love you.” she hummed.

He vaguely remembered her telling him when he had been in withdrawals but he couldn’t be sure if it was a real memory or a hallucination. It felt odd hearing those words after all those years. Nobody had been saying them to him in fifteen years. She had been the last. She _would be_ the last probably.

He coiled his hand around her nape like he had done countless times in the past and she purred in contentment.

That could be the norm for the rest of his life, he realized.

That should have been the norm for the rest of his life.

The thought was sobering.

It chased the thirst away and replaced it with yearning for this. Her. _Them_. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only 4 chapters left!

“How are they doing?” Finnick asked, almost bouncing on his plastic seat. Peeta exchanged an amused glance with Annie while Jo and Katniss rolled their eyes in perfect synchronicity. Mags simply smiled with fondness.

Ever since they had all met up in the stadium’s lobby, Finnick had been behaving like a small kid his parents were taking to the circus for the first time. He had consulted the charity gala program so many times Peeta was sure he knew it by heart, and he was impatiently waiting for the evening to actually _start_.

“Haymitch looked like he wanted to throw up and Effie looked like she was second guessing all of her life choices.” Katniss snorted. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“It’s going to be great.” Peeta argued.

“They spent the _whole_ flight arguing.” she countered. “ _Four_ _hours_. I thought the couple behind us was going to kill them.”

“They were too busy trying to kill _each other_.” he reminded her with a snort.

And that couple had been _scary_. They had spent the whole time tossing veiled threats at each other, calling themselves Coin and Snow like some sort of code names… It had taken Katniss and Peeta a long time to realize they weren’t actually planning to take over the world but were simply playing Battleships. Weird people though. _Scary_.

“Not the point.” she sighed. “They’re not ready and Haymitch doesn’t want to be here… It’s not going to work.”

“Abernathy and Trinket, back on the rink.” Finnick cut in. “It is going to be _the_ _best_.”

“Until Trinket falls on her ass.” Jo predicted. “I’m calling dibs on the cheering when that happens.”

“You have to be supportive, Johanna.” Annie chided her. “Effie is a good friend.”

Johanna rolled her eyes. “We all know they’re going to fail.”

“That’s what everyone said before they performed together for the first time and look how far they got.” Finnick retorted. “They were _the best_ figure skating competitions had seen in a long time.”

“To _you,_ ‘cause you’re their number one fanboy.” Jo scoffed. “There’s been greater than them.”

“They were beautiful.” Annie cut in. “And they were a breath of fresh air. They had a huge impact on the field.”

“Hey, solo skaters stick to commenting solo skating.” Johanna retorted.

“Don’t be mean.” Finnick snapped. “Annie’s allowed an opinion same as you. You’re just bitter because you will never be as good as Effie.”

“Okay…” Peeta cut in before it could escalate. “Mags, what do you think?”

Mags had been sitting in silence for most of the conversation, a small peaceful smile on her face.

“I trust them.” she answered in a raspier voice than usual. He had to bend over Finnick’s knees to hear.

“Are you alright?” he asked, a little concerned. Mags looked tired and a little pale.

She dismissed his worry with a little wave of her hand and patted Annie’s leg when she turned to her with apprehension.

“She’s stubborn.” Johanna muttered to Katniss on his other side, low enough that her trainer wouldn’t hear. “She’s not doing good but she wouldn’t stay home. Didn’t want to miss Fire and Ice. Her dream come true, if you ask me. She always regretted not training them longer.” 

Peeta leaned in, not wanting to be excluded from the conversation. “She did wonders with them though. Haymitch was old when he switched to figure skating… I mean… No offense, Katniss, but hockey isn’t exactly…”

“I was sixteen and it was hell.” she confirmed. “I can’t imagine doing it at twenty-two after almost a lifetime of hockey playing.”

It wasn’t so easy to switch disciplines. The only thing hockey and figure skating had in common were the rink and the ability to balance oneself on skates. Sports often became muscle memory and that meant Haymitch and Katniss had to _unlearn_ everything to _learn_ new things.

“How did he even make the switch?” Peeta asked. “I mean… I know he got banned from hockey but how did he get the idea to go into figure skating? That seems like a stretch for someone like Haymitch…”

“Blind date.” Finnick grinned, butting in their discussion. “One of Haymitch’s friends knew Heavensbee and Heavensbee was keeping an eye out for a possible partner for Effie.”

“’Cause she was finished and everyone knew it.” Jo snorted.

“Not so finished.” Katniss frowned.

“But how did she end up with _Haymitch_?” Peeta insisted. “Because it seems…”

 _Unlikely_. It seemed just as unlikely for Effie Trinket to choose a hockey player for a partner just as it seemed unlikely for Haymitch Abernathy to suddenly wake up one morning and decide he was going into figure skating.

“Leap of faith.” Finnick explained.

“No choice.” Jo snorted. “Nobody would skate with her. Like I said, she was finished.”

“Well, either way, it was a good thing.” Katniss snapped. “Because they were the best.”

“Clearly not. Finnick and I have a gold medal. They have a _silver_ one.” Johanna retorted. “Maybe it’s time Mags wakes up and realizes _we_ ’re the best she’s ever coached. Tonight might help.”

“Don’t be jealous, Jo. It’s an ugly look on you.” Finnick scowled before shaking his head, his excitement coming back full force. “Mags told me the story _a thousand times_ … When they first met, sparks flew everywhere. It was _perfect chemistry_ , instant connection. The stuff of dream.”

“Yeah, it was a fucking _cartoon_.” Johanna commented in a muffled mumble.

Katniss shot her an amused look. “They do have chemistry on the ice.”

“And outside.” Peeta added with a shrug.

“They keep _arguing_.” she sighed.

“That’s a form of foreplay for some people, you know?” Finnick wriggled his eyebrows.

Unsurprisingly, Katniss flushed red and refused to engage with him again. Peeta did his best to play buffer because Finnick was too eager to tease and Katniss hated that.

Fortunately, as soon as the speeches started, Finnick fell silent and went back to his excited bouncing, consulting the program every five seconds to make sure Effie and Haymitch wouldn’t _magically_ perform sooner.

The speeches were boring and Peeta understood what Jo had meant in Paris when she had said those sort of charities were like a competition in their own rights. The first two skaters to perform had been famous in their days but now… Now it was almost _sad_. They did their best and it was pretty but compared to the videos of them in their youth he had seen…

“Are you nervous?” he whispered to Katniss, with a wince. “ _I_ ’m nervous. Do you think that’s how they feel when we compete?”

Katniss shrugged but kept her eyes on the rink. After a minute or two, her hand tentatively covered his. He turned it through sheer habit so their palms were pressed flat against each other and he hesitantly entwined their fingers.  She didn’t say anything but she didn’t take her hand back either.

To be honest, he barely paid attention to the people performing. He was reviewing Effie and Haymitch’s routine in his head – or what they had consented to show them anyway – and hoping the few lifts would go well because they were the most dangerous things in the program. They weren’t _impressive_ but with Haymitch’s unsteady hands and Effie’s knee…

Enobaria and Brutus were _by far_ the highlights of the gala for now and even them weren’t performing at the level they used to. They did a fast routine which was, in his opinion, a mistake. The fast pace suited Enobaria but Brutus, who was much older, was having difficulties following. Still, it was a nice show and he clapped with everyone else.

“Tough act to follow.” Jo commented.

Peeta grabbed Katniss’ hand again.

 _“And now, please welcome Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy.”_ the announcer declared. _“Clap for Romeo and Juliet.”_

They weren’t the first that night to do a lyrical piece but after Enobaria and Brutus’ upbeat performance, he wasn’t sure it would cut it. The crowd went wild for them. They were the event of the night. Succeed or fail, they would be who everyone talked about the next day.

He couldn’t say who was holding tighter to the other’s hand but Katniss suddenly looked nervous on their behalf too.

Haymitch and Effie, on the other hand, didn’t look nervous at all. Effie was sporting her brightest smile as she waved at the crowd before taking position and Haymitch… Haymitch never let go of her hand until it was time and he looked _peaceful_ , _confident_.

“I can’t _believe_ this is happening.” Finnick whispered, tapping his feet against the floor in excitement. “This is _really_ happening.”

Annie shot him an amused smile and grabbed his hand.

When the music started, Peeta held his breath and didn’t let it out for the whole time of the routine. It wasn’t _perfect_ , there were mistakes. Some jumps could have been higher and they failed to catch each other’s hands once but they made everything look so _easy_ , so _light_ and _powerful_ , he was sure nobody noticed.

They had done more complicated routine in the past but the _emotions_ they managed to trigger… They were beautiful. _That_ was art on ice.

And he completely understood Finnick when he bolted on his feet at the end of the performance and clapped, cheered and whistled like they were at a hockey game and not at a charity figure skating gala. He wasn’t the only one though, the whole stadium stood up to cheer for them.

Not that Haymitch and Effie seemed to notice. He helped her up and they remained there, staring at each other, slightly out of breath, hands locked together…

The crowd cheered and cheered and still they stared at each other.

 _“Fire and Ice!”_ the announcer shouted, clearly gained by the same enthusiasm that was moving the audience.

 _Finally_ , that seemed to burst their bubble. Effie glanced around, looking a little stunned, Haymitch said something to her, he cupped her face and pressed a kiss on her forehead, triggering more claps and whistling… And then they made their way to the center or the rink where they took their bows. _Three_ times.

It took a while for the stadium to calm down, the final performers who took the ice after them went mostly ignored.

Peeta and Katniss exchanged proud grins and he eventually leaned around Finnick to check on Mags, to ask what she had thought.

Silent tears were rolling down the old woman’s cheeks.

Annie and Finnick hadn’t noticed. Peeta held his tongue.

It was a private moment for her, he understood. A dream came true. A relief.

It wasn’t just seeing them skate. It was _the way_ they had skated: total trust, perfect synchronicity, chemistry… _The_ _bond_ that could only exist between two people who knew each other inside and out and, if Peeta was honest, between two people who were everything to each other.

They would have never been able to skate like that a few months earlier, he knew.

Whatever had happened between them in the past…

It had been put to rest tonight.

°O°

 _Mags always insisted that character pieces should be_ lived _, well… Effie was right there with Juliet. She didn’t have to reach far to express despair or impossible love that threatened to destroy everything._

_The Olympics’ Gala Exhibition was supposed to be fun. It was everything but._

_The moment Prokofiev’s music started, all Effie wanted to do was cry, the conversation she had had with Haymitch earlier too present in her mind, his words too heavy to be forgotten or ignored… She couldn’t even register what he had told her._ Leaving, second best, done _… The words kept swirling in her mind again and again and again… She gave everything to her performance instead. She kicked harder, she jumped higher, she threw herself in his arms with more abandon…_

_They were perfect, she knew that without a doubt._

_It might even be their best performance._

_She wanted it to never end but eventually the music stopped, people cheered and he helped her back to her feet. He wouldn’t meet her eyes and he moved as if to take his bow. She didn’t let go of his hands._

_“This is not the last time we skate together.” she whispered frantically, her sight blurred by tears. “This is not the last time we skate together, do you hear me?”_

_“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” he sighed._

_Instead of stepping away, he wrapped his arms around her and she clung to him right back, not caring that they were in the middle of the rink, that people were clapping and staring, that someone would pick up on the tension…_

_“You are not leaving me.” she hissed in his ear. “This is a stupid cruel joke you are playing on me. You are not leaving me.”_

_“Effie…” he replied. “I am.”_

_“No, you are not!” she snapped. “You are not! I forbid it. Don’t bring it up again. This subject is over.”_

_She heard the announcer calling their name with more insistence and she realized they had been hugging for too long. They were disrupting the whole schedule._

_“Eyes bright, chin up, smile on.” she instructed before stepping back for the bows._

_She was grabbed by someone who wanted to congratulate her as soon as they were off the rink and then it was Mags who wanted to tell her about her loop jump and when she turned around, Haymitch was nowhere to be seen._

_She forced herself to swallow back the panic because_ he wouldn’t leave her _. He couldn’t leave before the Closing Ceremony anyway, it simply wasn’t done. There were protocols to the Games._

_She and Mags waited forever after the gala, until Brutus took pity on them and told them the men’s locker room was empty and that Haymitch had already left. It took everything Effie had not to run to their apartment when they reached the Olympic Village. She checked her place first, because that was where they had been staying. It was empty. His suitcases and clothes were gone. She checked his room but he hadn’t spent a single night there and everything was spotless, untouched._

He wouldn’t leave _, the words kept turning in her mind. He was upset because they hadn’t won gold, that was it. He would calm down and he would come back._

_He wasn’t back the next day._

_Or the one after that._

_One morning, Mags came in with a pained expression on her face and she knew, she simply knew, this wasn’t just about being upset they hadn’t won. He wasn’t drinking himself into a stupor somewhere in Nagano or lying low in a hotel until she got tired of that game and went after him._

_“He’s back in the States, girl.” Mags told her, patting her hand. “Medias are all over this story.”_

_“But he will come back.” she argued. “He will. I_ know _he will.”_

_It was denial at its highest, she mused in the last sane corner of her mind, but she couldn’t begin to care. She couldn’t do any of it without him. She couldn’t. She needed him. And he had promised. He had promised time and time again he would never leave her. He loved her. She loved him. You didn’t leave when you loved people._

_“I don’t think he will, Effie.” Mags told her softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t think he will.”_

_She refused to listen to another word. She spent the rest of the Games in bed, her face buried in the pillow that smelt like him, waiting for him to come back. She would make him grovel and crawl. She would make him apologize a thousand times and maybe a few thousands more just to make a point. She would go on a sex strike and she would refuse to do all the things he liked once she eventually caved to his talented fingers. She would make him pay for the misery he was putting her thought._

_But it was temporary. Just temporary._

_She didn’t train. What was the point?, she told Mags, she had no partner to train with. She wouldn’t get out of bed. She was waiting._

_Mags forced her to get up and dressed for the Closing Ceremony. She attended alone and people stared. Brutus was nice about it and offered for her to stick close to him and Enobaria. She hated pity. It was like when she had injured her knee all over again._

_The flight back to the States was long and painful. She took sleeping pills halfway through._

_She hoped he would be at the airport but nobody was there to welcome her except the Trinkets’ new driver._

_She rushed to their room as soon as they reached the estate._

Their _room was_ her _room again. It was like he had never been there at all. His clothes weren’t in her dressing, his books were gone, the insufferable mess he left everywhere had been tidied… No razor in the bathroom, no shaving cream, no after shave, no man deodorant next to her floral roll-on one, no second toothbrush next to her pink one… The only proof that he had been there at all was the plastic cups they used to wash their mouths after brushing their teeth. It was a gift from Chaff, a joke from when he had stayed with them at the beach villa over the holidays… He had bought them matching cups. Hers was pink with a Princess Peach pitching a feat and his was red, on it Mario had his huge fists on his hips and looked grumpy. It was the only trace left of him._

_She didn’t have the courage to check the bedroom he hadn’t been using in months. She knew she would find it empty._

_She clutched the Mario cup to her chest and, for the first time, she cried._

_It was stupid and pathetic to cry over a plastic cup with a video game character she didn’t even like on it, but she sobbed and wailed all the same until she was too exhausted and dragged herself to her bed._

_A part of her was still waiting for him to realize his mistake and to come back._

_Another part knew she simply wasn’t enough to hold him back._

°O°

There were tears in her eyes when they finished the performance. It was a character piece and she was a good actress but she thought it had less to do with Juliet and more to do with _her_. _Them_. Haymitch helped her up, a dazed spark in his grey eyes and she knew he had felt it too.

Never in rehearsals had they come _that_ close to what they used to share.

She felt… _healed. Cleansed_ , somehow.

They stared at each other, panting a little, locked in a world of their own. A smile burst on her lips and then she was chuckling and she didn’t know why. She felt happy, inexplicably happy, _elevated_ like only a perfect performance could elevate her.

Tears roll on her cheeks but they were tears of happiness, of _relief_. They could do this. They could survive the pain and betrayal and the fifteen years of loneliness and misery. They could move on. She felt it right down to her core.

 _“Fire and Ice!”_ the announcer’s voice boomed out and she realized, belatedly, that they had been standing still too long, that the audience had been cheering, expecting them to take a bow and leave their place to someone else. She looked around, pleasantly surprised by this ovation that never ended. She was hyper sensitive at that second and all that… _love and admiration_ rippled on her, making more tears pool in her eyes…

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” he told her.

She looked back at him, automatically smiling back when she spotted his smirk. He cupped her face and, for a wild second, she thought he would kiss her full on the mouth for everyone to see.

She had imagined it a few times in her youth. They would have struck a perfect performance at the Olympics and he would have kissed her at the very end, carried away by the euphoria of the win… He would have claimed her for everyone to see and there would have been no more hiding like they were a dirty little secret.

He didn’t kiss her on the mouth though. He pressed his lips on her forehead, triggering more cheering, and she smiled. She smiled so hard her lips hurt because she was so _happy_.

The bows were a blur. She followed his lead, clinging to his hand as they exited the rink, automatically putting on the blade protections they were handed and accepting the flowers people gave them…

They waited more or less patiently for the final round, completely ignoring Enobaria’s dark looks. Effie barely noticed to be honest, she was too busy stealing glances at Haymitch, biting on her bottom lip, squeezing his fingers so tight it must have hurt.

“Stop looking at me like that, Princess.” he demanded after a few minutes. “It’s torture.”

He shot her a look that let her know just how badly he wanted to pin her to a wall and kiss her senseless. She licked her lips and his eyes darted down, almost dark with lust, and she found herself grinning like a fool…

Skating together had always made their blood boil.

“You know, Trinket…” Enobaria snickered as they all got ready to head back on the ice for the final bow, ladies on one side and men on the other. “What’s cute at twenty isn’t so cute at forty.”

“I am not forty.” she huffed.

The woman rolled her eyes, flashing teeth that looked like fangs in the spotlights. “It doesn’t change how stupid you look when you stare at him like that.”

She was gone before Effie could tell her to mind her own business.

She wanted to reach out, grab Haymitch and… Maybe push him in the next secluded room but fate was against her. There were federation officials who wanted to congratulate them, Plutarch who couldn’t take a hint and kept clapping Haymitch’s back and telling everyone _he_ was the one who had introduced them, journalists who wanted interviews about them and the children and the upcoming Championships, fans who wanted their signatures and pictures… She was wrapped up in an interview with a sports magazine when she saw Haymitch giving up in the corner of her eyes and retreating to the locker room. It was a while before she could make a similar escape.

She changed in a hurry but then spent ten minutes second guessing her outfit. She had picked out a red dress earlier, not really on purpose but not really at random either, but now she wondered if it really suited her figure. She made sure her make-up was perfect, she tousled her loose hair on her shoulders to give it some volume, she adjusted the charm bracelet on her wrist and the diamonds earrings…

She was strangely _nervous_.

Eventually, she ran out of excuses and she joined everyone in the lobby. Haymitch was already there, wrapped in his grey coat, his hair slightly disheveled… His gaze found hers immediately and the strange fluttering in her stomach settled into a warm anticipation.

She received hugs from everyone with a smile and grateful thanks – even Johanna – and closed her eyes when Mags wrapped her arms around her as tightly as her meager strength would allow her.

“Good job, my girl.” her former trainer whispered. “Very good job.”

“Thank you.” she grinned.

She looped her arm around Haymitch’s, barely listening to a word of what Finnick had to say – and he had _plenty_ to say clearly. She didn’t know who suggested a celebratory party but she squeezed Haymitch’s arm before he could accept the offer.

“This is very nice of you but we are not used to this anymore. We are exhausted.” she said quickly, patting Peeta on the shoulder. “But you should go out and have fun. Just be sure to come back at a reasonable hour. Now is not the time to _not_ be rested.”

Haymitch lifted his eyebrows and then faked an unconvincing yawn. “Yeah, _tired_. Exhausted. Hotel sounds good. ‘Night.”

She shook her head at his antics but she couldn’t honestly care less because suddenly his arm was around her waist, his hand on her hip and she let him steer her away. Mags declined the outing too. They weren’t staying at the same hotel and they waited awkwardly for the taxis they had ordered. Effie tried to make small talk but it was hard to focus with Haymitch’s hand wandering in the pocket of her coat and poking her in the thigh – or, _worse_ , when he returned it to the small of her back and let it fall lower and lower…

She was relieved when Mags climbed into her taxi and she turned to him, a frown on her face, ready to lecture him about exactly _why_ it was rude to put a lady on the spot like that, when he kissed her. She didn’t have time to say or do anything. He _kissed_ her. In the street. So long that their taxi driver had to honk when it finally stopped in front of them.

That kiss took her breath away.

She almost expected flashes and people shouting but nobody looked at them because nobody cared.

They spent the whole drive looking at each other, his hand on her thigh, sometimes venturing higher than it should have given the audience, her hand gripping his either to keep it in place or to nudge it away when it became too much…

He kissed her in the elevator and he unzipped her dress right in the corridor when she was still trying to get the hotel door to open. He never asked if she wanted more than what they had shared until now. He didn’t have to. They were too much in synch for him not to know.

The second the hotel door slammed shut behind him, she turned around and almost ripped his shirt off his body. There was nothing nice nor sweet to this. Their kisses were aggressive, their touch was demanding…

He bundled the unzipped dress in his hands and forced it over her head… She shivered, her arousal briefly tamed by a flicker of self-doubt.

“I’m not twenty anymore.” she whispered as his mouth latched on her throat. Her body wasn’t the same it used to be, time had taken its toll despite her best efforts to stop its ravages.

“Neither I am.” he mumbled. “So what?”

The difference were there on his body too. She had already noticed when he had been in withdrawals and she had been forced to take care of him. There were less muscles and the beginning of a small pouch of fat on his belly, his ass wasn’t as firm as it used to be, and the hairs on his chest were more silver than blond… She didn’t care.

“Take me to bed.” she hissed in answer.

“I’m not taking you to bed, I’m going to _fuck_ you.” he growled.

She didn’t object when he lifted her up and she didn’t object when he tossed her on the bed so hard she bounced a little on the mattress. Their bodies were familiar but different, they had everything to relearn. Their new rekindled bond was just as strong in bed as it had been earlier on the ice though and she instinctively knew what to do and _how_ to make him moan and groan her name with utter abandon.

It wasn’t _perfect_.

But it was _close_.

Afterwards, they lied for a while pressed together, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, trying to get their breath back.

“We’re still very good at sex.” he snorted.

“Are you surprised?” she hummed, dropping a kiss on his shoulder, letting her teeth scrape his skin.

“No.” he admitted, wrapping his arms more firmly around her. “We’re _made_ for having sex together, sweetheart. It’s a _thing_.”

She chuckled a little but she didn’t contradict him. He had a point. Her best sex experiences had been with Haymitch.

“Good thing we will have sex together for the rest of our lives then.” she stated, not exactly surprised to feel him tensing. It didn’t last long, he soon relaxed.

“We’re doing the long term thing then.” he commented flatly. “You’re sure? ‘Cause… You _better_ be _sure_.”

“I am taking a leap of faith.” she answered, tracing silly patterns on his chest.

“Looks more like a free fall to me.” he teased, echoing words he had spoken long ago.

“Well… They call it _falling in love_ for a reason, I suppose.” she answered, propping her chin on his chest. “It is alright though. I trust you to catch me.”

He brushed his knuckles against her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear, an anxious look on his face. “What if I drop you again?”

“You won’t.” she declared with a certainty she didn’t know she had. “You never do the same mistake twice.”

“’Cause you don’t let me…” he whispered.

“I won’t let you leave me again.” she promised. “Not without a lot of screaming matches, a proper explanation and probably a few trips to a marriage counselor. I was in denial last time. That is not happening again.” She averted her eyes. “I should have fought for us too. You left but I let you do it. I should have stopped you. If you ever try that again, I will.”

“Good.” he commented.

“Good.” she echoed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their present performance is inspired by Kaitlyn Weaver and Andrew Poje Exhibition Gala piece on Kissing you at the 2015 Skate Canada.
> 
> Their past performance is inspired by Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peyzerat performance at the 98 Olympics on Romeo and Juliet by Pokofiev.


	25. Chapter 25

Lips wandered up his shoulder blade, hair tickled his nape, fingers ghosted on his side… Haymitch’s eyes fluttered opened, a smirk already on his lips.

“Forgot how much I like waking up like that.” he mumbled sleepily.

She chuckled against his back, her hand leaving his side to roam on his backside. “I am all sore.”

He could imagine. His own body was screaming in protest and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the previous night’s gala or the weeks of training she had forced him through. There were worse things than having sore muscles because of sex though and he simply rolled on his back, watching her in the semi-darkness. The sheets were pooling around her waist, she had propped her head on her hand, her hair was a mess and there was a small pout on her lips that was begging to be kissed. Her fingers danced over his hip and on to parts of him that were quickly responding to her touch.

“Still up at the crack of dawn.” he accused, not exactly protesting.

“I booked the rink for training this morning.” she hummed. “We can’t lose half a day of training and the flight isn’t until three thirty.”

He looped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. “Tell Mags to take up the training. I coached Finnick. She owes us one. She can take the kids with hers.”

“That’s an idea…” she grinned. “But what will _we_ do, I wonder?”

“’Got a few ideas, Princess.” he chuckled, pulling her over his chest, guiding her leg over his hip and leaning in to kiss her at the same time. He didn’t know what was turning him on more: the dirty way she used her tongue when they kissed or the slow rotation of her hips…

The shrill ringing of her phone startled them both and she glanced in the direction where her purse had been tossed the previous night. He placed a hand on her cheek and nudged her head back down, in a moment they were kissing again. The ringing stopped and her hips became more insistent, his own hands wandered up and down her back, eventually looping around her thighs…

Her phone rang for the second time and she broke the kiss, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Ignore it.” he demanded.

“It could be the children.” she argued.

“The kids know where we are.” He rolled his eyes. “If they need us, they will come knocking. And Peeta’s clever so they will make themselves scarce until _we_ go get them first.”

Her phone stopped ringing but only for a second, then it started again in earnest. And his own phone echoed it from the jeans he had discarded the previous day.

“Okay.” he admitted. “That’s weird.”

She climbed off him and wandered to her purse, still naked – and he _appreciated_ the view – crouching to rummage around until she found her phone.

“All missed calls are from Finnick.” she told him, wandering back to the bed, picking up his own phone on her way. “Yours is from Johanna.”

He checked the time and shrugged. “Must have finished their jog and want to get together for breakfast.” He wrapped his arm around her waist when she sat on the edge of the mattress. “Come back to bed.”

“In a moment.” she said, her voice a little strained. “Let me…” She was calling back before he could tell her to let it go. He sat up, pressing his mouth against her back, nibbling on some spots, leaving reddish marks and stubble burn in his wake. She didn’t react. “Finnick? Yes, I was…”

There was a short bout of silence and he let his hand wander to her front, he played with her breasts in the way she liked but she covered his hand with hers and they fell in her lap. Her breathing quickened but it had nothing to do with arousal. She had gone rigid.

He kissed her neck, hoping to get a reaction. “Effie?”

“Of course.” she said eventually, in answer to Finnick. “No, I will be right here. I will be right here, don’t… I will take care of it. There will be paperwork and we will need to plan for… I will take care of it, do not worry. I will be right here.”

The call disconnected but he couldn’t tell if it was Effie or Finnick who had hung up.

“Paperwork for what?” he asked. “You’re doing their PR now?”

He waited for her to lean against his chest but she remained sitting with her back straight, tension radiating from her in waves.

“Mags is dead.” she whispered.

The words made no sense and he scoffed, instinctively recoiling away from her. “ _Bullshit_. She was fine last night. They’re playing a _fucking sick_ joke on you.”

“Finnick found her this morning when she wasn’t on time to send them on their jog.” she explained, her voice completely detached, _flat_. “He called a doctor but… They think it was another stroke. It happened in her sleep. She didn’t suffer.”

“She was fine last night.” he snapped.

“And now she is dead.” she countered in the same flat voice, standing up to grab some clothes from her suitcase. “She is at the morgue now. We can’t leave her there, of course. It is… We can’t leave her there. There are papers to fill… We need to organize. She would like to be buried in her hometown, wouldn’t she? By the sea. She loves the sea. There are papers somewhere… I know she left plans with her lawyer for me in case something like this happens. She made me sign a lot of papers after her last stroke… Everything is with her lawyer and his number is somewhere in my phone… I need to call him. Annie is having a nervous breakdown and Johanna is no help… I told Finnick I would come to take care of things. I need to call the lawyer. I can’t remember his name…” He watched her pulling on panties and black slacks, stunned into silence. “You will need to take care of the children. I booked the rink under my name… Tell them to call me if they don’t want to let you use it. I will keep my phone… I need to call the lawyer anyway.”

“I’m not training the kids.” he heard himself say.

“We can’t afford to lose a day.” she argued, putting on a black bra and a white woolen sweater. It showed. It was probably telling she was even doing something like that because he was sure she would never have put a black bra under a white sweater on purpose.

“Mags’s dead.” he repeated, the words foreign in his mouth. “I’m not training the kids.”

She froze, her hair pulled up in her hand, the hair tie stretched between her fingers, ready to secure the ponytail in place…

“Mags is dead.” she echoed.

It sounded just as absurd in her mouth.

“Mags’s dead.” he said again and it didn’t make any more sense.

°O°

_Mags opened her door with a puzzled expression that soon turned into a worried frown. “How is she doing?”_

_Haymitch shrugged and walked in his trainer’s apartment when she stepped aside. His eyes were burning and he could have killed someone for a shower but going back to their room was more than he could take._

_“Cried herself to sleep.” he mumbled. “The dragon called. Didn’t help.”_

_He dropped on the small couch – everything was_ small _in Japan – his eyes going to the CNN news the TV was displaying in a low background noise. It was all about the winter Olympics._

_The silver medal was still around his neck. It felt heavy and out of place but he hadn’t found time to take it off yet. He had been too busy standing there helpless while Effie was having a complete breakdown, not accusing him but not quite saying their loss wasn’t solely his fault. He had drank before going to the rink and it might only have been a sip, it might not have affected their performance but she would never forget and she would never forgive. And perhaps he was glad for that alcohol excuse because… Maybe_ he _was simply not good enough to match her._

_She was amazing. She was talented. She could do_ so much… _And at the end of the day he was just a hockey player turned figure skater. He couldn’t match her. He wasn’t pushing her higher, he was dragging her down._

_And his own dreams weren’t matching her ambition._

_He was a simple guy with simple needs._

_She wanted the world on a golden tray._

_He wanted her, a nice life made of laughter, love and maybe, eventually, if he could go past his apprehensions he would like kids, he wanted the competitions too but he wanted her first._

_“How are you doing, boy?” Mags frowned. “Silver is good. You two are still young. In four years…”_

_“She’ll get her gold in four years.” he cut her off. He believed it with everything he had. “Just not with me.”_

_“Haymitch.” she sighed, taking a seat on the couch._

_He wondered if she had seen this coming. He wondered if it had been obvious for everyone but him. Elindra had never made a secret of how she felt about them, Tadius had been polite and nice but never openly welcoming, Chaff had expressed concerns sometimes… He wondered if they had been doomed from the start and he had just not wanted to see it._

_“I wanted to tell you first.” he said, his voice detached. “I’m leaving.”_

_“Do not be an idiot, boy.” She shook her head. “A loss doesn’t end a career. This is not the end of…”_

_“It’s not about my career.” he scoffed. “Hell, it’s not even about… Look, she wants an Olympic title.”_

_“Of course, she does. So do you.” Mags shrugged. “So do_ I _for that matter. And we will all get it in due time.”_

_“No…” he scowled, averting his eyes. “You don’t get what I’m saying. She wants a title. That’s what she wants in life. That’s…” He clenched his jaw. “That’s not what I want.”_

_“Haymitch, you are being an idiot.” she declared._

_“She loves the sport more than she loves me.” he muttered anyway. “It’s fine, I guess. I always knew… She’s driven, I like that, but… Look, I can’t be second best. And she deserves more. She deserves to get her dream and she can’t do that with me dragging her down.” He licked his lips, trying to ignore the hole in his chest. “I’m leaving tomorrow after the gala. Clean break, it’ll be easier. I’ll tell her in the morning, I just wanted to let you know first.”_

_“That will be the biggest mistake of your life.” Mags warned. “You will regret this.”_

_“She deserves…” he insisted._

_“What do_ you _deserve, boy?” she snapped. “Because I’m telling you, that girl is your one in a million. You_ don’t _waste_ _that.”_

_“I’m not wasting it.” he argued. “I’m doing what’s best for_ her _. I’m doing what she will never have the guts to do. I’m taking myself out of the picture so she can be as great as she wants to be. And don’t turn this into some selfless romantic gesture… I’m also doing this so we don’t wake up in ten years like her mom and her dad. I never want to resent her and I don’t want her to resent me. We won’t work, Mags. We won’t…” His voice broke and he turned his head away. “Don’t tell her any of this. Ever. She’ll never let go if she knows… Let her hate me. Easier all around.”_

_She pursed her lips in disapproval. “Easier for whom? I can guarantee it won’t be easier for her. She loves you, Haymitch, and you love her. Do not be an idiot.”_

_“I was being an idiot when I let her in.” he chuckled bitterly. “Should have kept my distance. Should have…” He closed his eyes. “I’m doing what’s best for her.”_

_“You are taking the coward’s way out.” she argued. “And you are better than this, boy.”_

_“Rule one.” he whispered, rubbing his face with his hand. It was ridiculous but he couldn’t stop thinking about_ Casablanca _. It was so deeply linked to what they had shared in Paris… And they had been so happy in Paris… He couldn’t stop thinking about how many times he had criticized Bogart, had called him a coward and an idiot for letting the love of his life go. Well. It seemed like Bogart had a point after all. And Effie too probably. There was no greatest proof of love than leaving the one you loved because you knew it was the best thing for them. “Can I crash on your couch? I don’t want… I can’t go back in there tonight.”_

_Mags stared at him. “She needs you.”_

_“She needs space.” he countered. “She doesn’t want me in there. She can’t even look at me. I let her down.”_

_“There were two of you on that rink. And she wasn’t one hundred percent in that performance either.” she stated. “If anything, losing was team work.”_

_He shrugged. “She still doesn’t need me.”_

_“But_ you _need her.” she sighed, clearly infuriated with him. “It is alright for_ you _to need_ her _.”_

_“Need to learn not to, right?” he snorted without any amusement._

_“You won’t leave.” Mags declared, standing up and patting his shoulder on her way to her bedroom. “You love her too much, you won’t leave her.”_

_She sounded so confident…_

_It was because he loved her too much that he would leave her._

_He was trying to do the right thing._

_For her._

_For them._

°O°

Effie paced back and forth in front of the nondescript building, her black heels hitting the sidewalk with brutality. It was a hot day and she was slowly cooking in her black outfit, she was at the end of her tether and she felt as if she hadn’t taken a proper breath in _days_ – which was the case.

She had sent Haymitch and the children back to Aspen and she had followed Finnick, Johanna and Annie back to the west coast with Mags’ body. There were too many things to organize and take care of, things Finnick wasn’t in any state to do. There was Annie to look after and Jo to watch like a hawk, lawyers to call, banks to notify, obituaries to be sent… She had planned those funerals from start to finish, burying herself in the organization to better hide from her grief but now…

She punched his name on her phone’s screen with her thumb for the third time and waited for the call to go through. She had no real idea about how Haymitch had been dealing for the past week. They had called and texted, she had talked to Peeta and Katniss who had nothing special to report about their coach’s behavior – he jogged with them in the morning and he hit the gym too, was all that Peeta had to say about him. He _exhausted_ himself, she understood, it was his default coping mechanism to grief when liquor wasn’t available.

She was worried about him. She was worried Mags’ death would trigger back memories of his family’s death and she wouldn’t be there to help him through it but at the same time she selfishly wished _he_ would be there for _her_ because she had never gone through something that _personal_ , that…

The call, like the two previous ones, went straight to voicemail.

“Where _are_ you?” she snapped “The children arrived _hours_ ago. They have no idea where you are, no idea…”

“I’m here, stop shouting.”

She turned around and there he was, in a creased black suit, with a crooked tie, bloodshot eyes and hair all over the place. She crossed the distance between them before she could even think about getting mad.

“I thought you would miss the service!” she exclaimed with relief, locking her arms around his neck, relieved when he wrapped his around her. She finally felt grounded. She had _missed_ him. She had _missed_ him _so much_. “Where _were_ you ? The children said you left them at the airport without so much as an explanation and…”

“I had to go home for a bit.” he sighed. “Needed to fetch something. Mags said something in Paris… Never mind that now.” He shrugged. “I’m here.”

“Home?” she repeated, puzzled. “But you had just _left_ home. Did you forget something or…” She stopped abruptly when she realized _home_ didn’t mean _Aspen_. “You went to _Richmond_?”

“I caught two planes and I had to rent a _fucking_ car to be on time.” he mumbled. “Drop it, sweetheart. I’m here, that’s what counts.”

“Did you drink?” she frowned, leaning back to look at him but not breaking the hug. “I won’t pretend I won’t be mad if you did but given the circumstances, I can understand.”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t drink.” His grey eyes studied her, too intense. “You thought I had taken off.”

“I didn’t know where you were.” she replied defensively. “I didn’t know if… I didn’t know if you would come back. I couldn’t _reach_ you.”

“My phone died.” he sighed. “Didn’t have a charger.”

She wasn’t entirely satisfied with that but she let it rest, stepping back to turn to the building’s entrance. “We should go. It will begin soon.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist before she could go far, holding her back. He waited until she looked at him to speak. “I’m not taking off again, Effie. I’m here to stay.”

She relaxed and nodded, briefly leaning against him. “I missed you.”

“Yeah.” he breathed out. “Me too.” It didn’t make her feel better but, to be fair, few things would have given the circumstances. “How are the kids holding up?”

She shook her head. “Annie is a mess. Finnick is doing his best to keep up a front, and Johanna… Johanna is in full anger mode. She is lashing out, don’t mind anything she says, she is simply hurting.”

“Sounds fun.” he mumbled.

The service went well and it was beautiful. There were a lot of people, a few people talked about Mags, a lot of people cried… It took everything Effie had to keep it together. The arm Haymitch stretched on the back of the bench behind her didn’t help. It was meant as comforting, she knew that, but it encouraged her to _let go_ , to lean against him and let him carry her grief and she couldn’t do that.

She needed to be strong for Finnick, Annie and Johanna.

The actual burial was almost her undoing though.

Haymitch and Johanna hated every second of it, she could tell, both of them kept shuffling on their feet on either side of her. Watching the coffin being lowered in the ground… Throwing flowers…

“I hate _fucking_ white roses.” Haymitch muttered to her afterwards, as they got ready to leave for the wake that would take place at Mags’ house.

The wake itself was unbearable. So many people wanted to offer their condolences, hug her or pledge their support… Haymitch and Johanna disappeared early enough and when they eventually wandered back, they reeked of cigarette smoke. She tossed a disapproving glance at Haymitch but he simply shrugged. “Don’t look at me. You know I hate the stuff.” 

“Jo…” She clicked her tongue. “You are an _athlete_. You know…”

“Not my mom.” Johanna reminded her in a snarl. “Mind your own _fucking_ business.”

“Effie, I’m going to take Annie back to our apartment.” Finnick cut in before she could answer. “You can deal alone here, yes?”

She opened and closed her mouth but before she could nod or agree, Johanna was sneering that if Finnick was allowed to slip away then she was taking off too, they started bickering, Haymitch cut in with unhelpful sarcastic comments, and she could see Annie, rocking on the balls of her feet right behind them and it was just _… too much_.

“Enough!” she snapped, loud enough that several heads turned in their direction and most of the discussions in the living-room died. She flushed crimson, embarrassed by her own outburst. She muttered an apology but _thank god_ it also spurred people into action. Plutarch and Peeta took a hint and started herding everyone _out_.  

The last one to leave was Plutarch. “I will see all of you in Canada.” he offered, after a few last anecdotes about Mags that were just _painful_ to sit through. No one but her even tried.

“Sure.” Jo drawled out as soon as he was out the door and it was only the seven of them. “ _Canada_.”

The young woman dropped on the couch, imitated by Annie and Finnick. Katniss perched herself on the armrest of an armchair, clearly having been feeling out of place since the beginning of the day. Effie appreciated that she had come to the funeral. She knew the girl would have rather remained in Aspen to train – truth be told, Effie would have offered for them to stay in Aspen and train but Peeta had assumed she wanted them there and since Haymitch was coming anyway…

“You are still going to Canada.” Effie declared firmly, gathering dirty plates and glasses, eager to escape the house where too many memories and mementoes made her think about Mags. It was _suffocating_.

She wasn’t impatient to tackle the task of emptying the house and sorting through everything and she was somehow certain she would get roped into doing it for the children.

Mags had left the house to Finnick, Annie and Johanna but Effie had already told Finnick she was bringing the poster in the upstairs corridor back to Aspen with her. It was a huge black and white reproduction of a picture of Haymitch and her on the rink. Mags loved that poster. Effie wanted it.

“Yeah?” Johanna scoffed. “You think? How?”

“We have no trainer and no manager.” Finnick added, more subdue. He was petting Annie’s hair who seemed calmer now that there were not so many people around. “We have no one to represent us.”

Haymitch flopped in the armchair Katniss was using as a perch. Effie felt his eyes on her, insistent and inquiring all at once. She didn’t look at him. She looked at the girl who was toying with her dark braid and the boy who was going out of his way to help her by piling dirty dishes. They had a duty to _those_ children. _She_ had a duty to those children.

But she also had a duty to Mags.

And, to some extent, to Finnick and Johanna.

“Do not be ridiculous.” she huffed. “ _Of course_ , you have a trainer.”

The entire room seemed to freeze. Except for Haymitch. Haymitch simply watched her with a blank face, absolutely not surprised, turning the golden bangle around his wrist distractedly.

“You’re coming to Aspen.” he said eventually when the silence stretched a little too long. “Annie too.”

“You can’t represent us all, can you?” Peeta frowned. “I mean… Is that legal?”

“I honestly have no idea.” Effie confessed. “I would need to look it up but if it comes down to that I will represent Finnick and Johanna, you and Katniss will compete under Haymitch’s name.”

“You’re jumping ships.” Katniss accused.

“I… _No_.” she frowned. “Katniss…”

“We can all be a team.” Finnick cut in. “I mean…” He sounded a bit unsure, looking from Peeta to Katniss. “We’re mostly _ready_. All we need is to rehearse and someone to handle… Well, _us_. Talk to sponsors and journalists, organize everything…”

“Yes, you need Effie. We got that.” Katniss sulked. “But we were there first. _I_ ’m the one who had the idea to get her.”

“And there you were, swearing you had nothing to do with that…” Haymitch snorted, rolling his eyes and swatting her thigh once. “Stop it already, sweetheart. It’s not going to impact on your training, you’re not the ones changing coaches three weeks before the Championships.”

“But we will have to share _you_.” the girl argued. “You and Effie. And Effie already has her hands full with representing us. She always complains about having to phone someone or other…”

Effie rubbed her forehead. “If you would prefer a clear separation then… By all means, we can make it official. Nothing forces you all to train together. I will handle Finnick and Johanna, and Haymitch can take care of you…”

“Haymitch is _useless_ at PR.” Katniss retorted.

“So good to feel loved.” Haymitch scorned. “Fine, then. I’ll take Finnick and Jo. Effie will keep training with you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” the girl scowled. “Peeta and I want you _together_.”

“So what do you want to do then?” Peeta asked, a tad ironically. “You want to leave Finnick and Jo to look for another coach? You want them to forfeit? _Right after_ they just lost someone very important to them?”

Katniss opened her mouth and immediately closed it, dropping her eyes with a slight flush. “No… Obviously not.”

“Are we done fighting over Mommy and Daddy then?” Jo spat. “’Cause I’m not going to Aspen.”

“You _are_ going to Aspen.” Finnick replied.

“Why?” Johanna snarled. “So you can live your dream of having Fire and Ice coach you?”

“No.” her partner snapped. “Because that was what Mags would want. Why do you think Effie is doing this?”

“I can help Effie.” Annie offered before the argument could escalate. “I used to help Mags. Like an assistant.”

“Of course, dear.” Effie smiled. “That would be most appreciated.”

She waited for more objections but none came.

They finished to clean and tidy everything in a friendly silence often interrupted by comments or chitchat. Johanna and Katniss started bickering at some point, it made Effie’s head buzz with a disagreeable headache but it was normal behavior for the girls and she was happy to see Jo acting like her usual self so she kept her peace.

She was relieved when Johanna offered to give Peeta and Katniss a tour – even if it was more an excuse to get _out of there_ than politeness on her part – and when Finnick and Annie left for their apartment. She didn’t last five more minutes before locking the house and starting to walk _away_ , barely aware that Haymitch was following her, hands in his pockets and a small scowl on his face.

It wasn’t long until they reached the pier and the beach that went on for miles. They wandered on the wooden planks stretching over the water, her heels drumming an erratic soundtrack to what felt more and more like a flight. She went all the way to the end of the pier, briefly leaning against the wooden railing.

There were a few people around laughing, taking pictures, enjoying the view…

It wasn’t until Haymitch leaned against the railing next to her, turning his back on the spectacular sight of the ocean, that she realized her sight was blurred by tears.

“How are you doing, Princess?” he asked.

“How are _you_ doing?” she retorted.

“Not good.” he offered honestly, his eyes trained on the group of teenagers sitting on one of the benches placed at regular points of the pier. They were loud and careless and she felt like it had been a lifetime since she was like _that_. “I want a drink. Been craving it since that morning.”

“But you haven’t drunk.” she pressed. He had _said_ he hadn’t.

“No.” he shrugged. “Got my reminder that I’ve got important things waiting.”

He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket a little, showing her the golden bangle.

“Well…” she chuckled. “At least I didn’t buy it for naught.”

“Yeah.” he snorted. “I guess so. You’re going to answer my question at some point?”

“The children need me.” she whispered. It was an answer like another.

“They’re not here.” he pointed out. “It’s just you and me, here.”

“ _You_ need me.” she added, hastily brushing away the tear that had just escaped her.

“Yeah, I do.” he admitted plainly. “But it’s okay for you to need me too. Two way street.”

She closed her eyes, hating the fact that they were in public and that she could feel her composure slipping with every passing second. Going back to the house to have her breakdown wasn’t an option though. That house… She didn’t want to go back to the house in the near future. The loss was too fresh, too _raw_.

She leaned against his chest, burying her face in his shoulder and trying hard to swallow back the tears.

“It’s okay, sweetheart…” he whispered against her ear, cradling the back of her head in his hand. “Just let it out.”

She did, muffling her sobs against his shoulder. Crying in silence was second nature. Elindra had never accepted tears.

_Eyes bright, chin up, smile on._

However, never mind how many times she repeated her mother’s favorite motto, it was overpowered by the memory of a gentler voice, a warm motherly one.

_Good job, girl. You made me proud_.


	26. Chapter 26

Katniss startled when she heard the door being opened but breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw it was only Peeta. Her partner slowly – and _quietly_ – closed the door, lifting an eyebrow at her, and she pulled off her earphones, sorry not to hear the end of _Viva La Vida_ because she had been looking forward to some time _alone_ all day. She refused to explain why she was sitting cross-legged on the pool table in the game room no one hardly ever used. There was a pool table, a game of darts on the wall – and Katniss had kicked Peeta’s and Haymitch’s asses more than once at that – a few bean bags in the corner next to a bookshelf on which board games were piled… Unlike other rooms in the house, it was obvious this one hadn’t been redecorated or touched in a while – since Effie’s childhood probably – since there were more interesting things to do elsewhere.

“Tell me they’re not about to come barging in?” she growled.

Learning to share Aspen with their new roommates was a nightmare. Annie was alright, Annie was kind and polite and nice to talk to and spend some quiet time with. She reminded her of Prim a little. Annie, she could have gotten along with _very_ easily on a day to day basis. Finnick and Johanna now…

“They’re playing _Call of Duty_.” Peeta told her, shaking his head in reassurance. He flopped on one of the bean bag in the corner, placing his notepad and pencils on his lap.

“In _our_ living-room.” she grumbled. There were _three_ living-rooms in that house. Why had Finnick had to set up his game console in the one they had claimed for their own? Finnick, Johanna and Annie had been there for a week and a half and it had been equally as long since she and Peeta had had a movie night. And she missed the quiet evenings spent in front of an old movie.

“Still not on board with them being here, right?” Peeta teased.

She shrugged. “They take a lot of space.”

“They do.” he agreed. “This house is huge and it actually feels small.”

“The snowstorm isn’t helping.” she sighed, climbing off the pool table to wander to the window.

The wind was still blowing hard, lifting handfuls of snow that came crashing on the glass panel. She was cold despite her heavy woolen sweater and Effie having increased the heating. She hoped it would die down by the next morning. Their morning jog wasn’t a problem given the treadmills but they had almost gotten blown away coming back from the rink earlier and she was certain their trainers wouldn’t let them wander in a snow storm to reach the building at the back of the house. They couldn’t afford to lose more days of training, not with Johanna and Finnick taking away the attention of their coaches half the time.

More generally, she thought she would have felt better if she had been able to step out on the balcony or even to tour the ground. She liked an evening stroll after dinner. She liked the surrounding wilderness, it soothed her. Sometimes she called Prim while she walked around the estate… She liked those quiet moment in the wild.

“I don’t know.” Peeta chuckled, focused on his drawing. “At least it’s too cold for Finnick to run around in his underwear.”

“Don’t remind me.” she scowled, rolling her eyes. Finnick had a bad habit of acting like he was alone in the house. He wandered in his underwear or with only a towel around his hips, he stripped down after ten minutes in the gym and spent the whole session bare-chested, he made jokes and innuendoes all the time… Katniss used to blush and stutter faced with his – admittedly _nice_ – body but now she didn’t even bat an eyelash. She had grown _used_ to it and that was _all kinds_ of wrong. Even Effie telling him to behave didn’t help, he would simply grin and ask if she liked what she saw, prompting Haymitch to snap something that would send him back to work. “Doesn’t stop Johanna though.”

The growl in her voice was a little too obvious and Peeta looked up, a flash of alarm on his face. “You’re not still angry about that, are you?”

“I’m not angry.” she lied, crossing her arms over her chest and keeping her eyes firmly on the grounds outside. “Why would I be angry? Not my problem.”

“Look, she said she wanted to go in the Jacuzzi and she stripped down right in front of Haymitch and me…” he winced. “Just like that. We didn’t have time to do anything.”

The memory still made her bristle in displeasure. She and Effie had walked in right at that moment: Johanna standing there naked, a hand on her hip and a smirk on her face, and Haymitch and Peeta gawking at her like the idiots they were. Katniss hadn’t known Effie could scream _so loud_.

“You still looked.” she accused.

“Well, it was right in front of me…” he cringed.

“I don’t _care_ what you do with Johanna.” she snarled. “You can go and have naked Jacuzzi sessions with her. What do I care?” She tossed him a glare. “But _you_ ’re the one who started the America sweethearts _bullshit_. What happens if the medias learn about this? It will ruin our image.” Truth be told, she didn’t really care about their image. That was Effie’s department. She simply didn’t like Jo stripping down in front of _her_ partner. “This whole thing is _stupid_ anyway. Haymitch and Effie aren’t focused on us anymore and what was this _stupid_ thing about us switching partners this afternoon?”

Peeta put his drawing stuff on the floor and hauled himself out of the bean bag. “Katniss…”

“You seemed cozy skating with Jo.” she sneered. “Maybe we should switch, then. Finnick is taller anyway.”

She had hated every minute of that exercise and she still didn’t get what the point of it was. They had made Jo skate with Peeta and they had made her skate with Finnick and everything had seemed _wrong_ but the worst had been watching another girl putting her hands on _her_ partner. She hadn’t liked that. _At all_.

“It was about showing us how special our bond with our partner is…” Peeta ventured, creeping closer to her. “I didn’t enjoy it, no…”

“You were laughing with her.” she snapped and she didn’t know where the sudden fury in her voice was coming from. “She stripped in front of you and…”

“Katniss, I’m not interested in Johanna.” he cut her off. He was standing right next to her and she was surprised because she hadn’t really registered he was moving. “She does those things only to annoy you, you know.”

“You _looked_.” she repeated in a hiss.

“You’re jealous.” he retorted and he sounded delighted.

“No, I’m not.” she huffed.

“Yes, you are.” he grinned. “You’re jealous. You’re jealous because…”

She fisted his shirt in her hand and tugged. He tripped forward and their mouth _clashed_ together, their teeth knocked and it scraped her bottom lip but she didn’t let that stop her. She had no technique and no interest in _impressing_. She didn’t even know what she was doing or why she was doing it really.

There was a _hunger_ in her belly and her lips and tongue were frantic. She pushed him against the window, all but moaning in his mouth when his hands slipped under her clothes to rest against the skin of her back.

“Katniss…” he whispered almost reverently between two kisses.

Never mind the cold, now she was warm, almost _too warm._ She slipped her woolen sweater off, not pausing to think how he would interpret it, almost urged on by the answering _hunger_ she could read in his eyes when they swept over the thinner long sleeves green shirt she wore underneath. Then they were kissing again except it didn’t feel like kissing, it felt like _devouring_ each other.

A few more minutes of that and she was tugging at his clothes, annoyed with the barrage of fabrics between her and his skin. She wanted him close, she _needed_ him close.

They were half undressed when the lights went off with a bang.

It stopped them for a second but only for a second, then they were kissing again, pulling at their remaining clothes until she was left in her jeans and her sports bra and she hesitated. He must have felt it because he pressed a last kiss on her shoulder, bringing his hands from her ass to the small of her back. “We can stop.”

“No.” she answered surprising even herself with how firm she sounded. “It’s just… I’ve never…”

“Me neither.” he said, pressing another kiss on her neck. “We should… My room?”

“Yes.” she breathed out. “Yes…”

°O°

Effie stormed back in their bedroom like a hurricane but Haymitch didn’t even startle, too used to her whirling in and out of rooms. He was sprawled on his back across the bed, his head almost dangling from the edge of the mattress. He saw her upside down.

“The power is out.” she announced.

“No kidding.” he snorted. “Won’t lie, the _bang_ and the lights going out were kind of a big clue.”

She glared at him in the firelight. Good thing he had had the presence of mind to build a fire _before_ the snowstorm won over the power – it wasn’t his first storm in Aspen and it wasn’t the first time they remained a whole night without power either.

“We should check on the children.” she sighed. “I am not sure they will realize the power going out means there is no heating system. They will need to build fires in their room… Do they even know how to do that?”

“Let them figure it out.” he scoffed. “You’re hovering over them like a mother hen.”

She rolled her eyes but must have seen the wisdom of his words because she closed the door and kicked off her heels, massaging the sole of her foot and then the other. Then she unpinned her hair, placing down the pins on the dressing table tucked in a corner of the room, before unzipping her dress. It slowly slid down her body and pooled on the floor and he rolled on his stomach to have a better view.

“Do you like what you see?” she hummed, stepping out of the fabric looped around her feet. She tousled her hair with one hand, the other pushing the strap of her bra down her shoulder… He licked his lips and she chuckled, reaching behind her to unclasp her lacy bra. “They say when you reach a certain age firelight is the best lighting for a woman.”

“Sets a mood.” he chuckled, catching the bra she tossed at him.

She hooked her thumbs on the waistband of the matching panties, a sassy grin on her lips, and pushed it down entirely too slowly. It was around her knees when the sharp knocking on the door echoed in the room.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and flopped on his back again, absolutely not surprised. It had been liked that ever since they had come back to Aspen. They couldn’t be alone for _five_ minutes.

With a muttered curse, Effie hooked the panties back up and grabbed the silk dressing gown she had tossed over the armchair in front of the fire that morning.

“Hey!” Finnick’s voice boomed when she opened the door. “So the power is out…”

“Observant.” Haymitch scoffed under his breath, too low to be heard.

“And I’m sorry but I have _no clue_ how to start a fire.” the boy continued – no reason to light fires on the West coast, Haymitch figured. “Jo could do it but she locked herself in her room. I checked on Peeta too but he said he and Katniss were good. His door was locked so… I guess they want to be alone if you catch my drift.”

“I really do _not_ want to catch your drift, it is giving me _nightmares_.” Effie retorted, glancing back at Haymitch. “You _did_ make sure Peeta…”

“Gave him condoms, gave him a nice little speech about respect and told him if he did anything to destroy their partnership and our chances at the Championships I would kill him myself.” he cut her off. “Most awkward conversation of my life.”

“Well… _Good_ , I suppose.” she sighed. “You wouldn’t want to get up and go help Finnick with his fire by any chance?”

“ _Nope_.” he answered, tossing an arm over his eyes and making the _p_ pop.

She huffed in annoyance but followed Finnick out all the same. She was coddling those kids too much, all of them, but no matter what he said she caved. She pushed them further than they thought they could go in training but outside of the rink… She was trying to compensate _so hard_ for Mags’ absence…

He closed his eyes, letting the familiar roar of the wind outside and the low popping of logs in the fireplace lull him to sleep. It was some time before she came back but when she did the smell of food immediately pulled him out of his slumber.

She had bread and cheese with her. She sat on the rug next to the fireplace, huddling close to it for warmth. He figured the rest of the house with its long corridors must have been freezing. With a sigh, he dragged himself off the bed and to the walk-in closet, fishing woolen socks from a drawer as well as her soft flannel shorts and a long-sleeve shirt from another. He dropped everything next to her before sitting down close to the fireplace.

She hummed a thank you and quickly got dressed in her pajamas, leaving sexy behind for warm.

He amused himself by holding the bread over the flames until it toasted before spreading the cheese on it. She stole it before he had a chance to take a bite and he complained so much, she rolled her eyes and offered him half of it. There were worse ways to end the day than toasting bread in the fireplace.

When there was no bread and no cheese left, she leaned her head against his shoulder, muffling a yawn behind her hand. They stared at the fire for a while.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered sleepily.

“Contemplating.” he said.

“Contemplating what?” she insisted with a low hum, snuggling against his side in search of warmth. She would fall asleep, he already knew, and he would have to carry her to their bed.

“How I went from being a lonely alcoholic to having five overgrown kids fighting for my attention.” he scoffed. “Can they be any _fucking_ louder? Or take more space?”

“It isn’t so terrible.” she laughed softly.  

“Sure, on the bright side, I’ve got you.” he snorted “But we _never_ have time for us anymore, Effie. I don’t even remember the last time we had sex.”

The whine in his voice might have been a little too much.

“I’m too tired.” she mumbled, nuzzling his neck. “Tomorrow.”

That would be a miracle, he thought. Double the kids meant double the training, they were working crazy hours and they were exhausted. And one of the kids would always find a way to come and harass them with pointless questions.

“It’s like I went from being single to having a family of five.” he sighed. “No transition.”

“I know…” she answered sleepily and he could hear the grin in her voice. “Don’t you love it? I do. I love them all even if they infuriate me. And even if Johanna makes a point of trying to get me jealous.”

“She’s got nothing on you.” he muttered, not keen on a repeat of the angry fit Effie had pitched the other day when Jo had stripped down to nothing in front of him and the boy.

“You are a liar but you lie very well.” she chuckled, nipping at the skin under his jaw. “Take me to bed.”

“You’re not asleep yet.” he grumbled “You can walk.”

“No, Haymitch…” she purred. “ _Take_ _me_ _to_ _bed_.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Not tired anymore?”

“Not when you compliment me…” she grinned.

He didn’t need her to tell him twice. He didn’t bother going all the way to the bed either. The rug in front of the fire did the trick just fine.

By the time he was done with her and he had dragged the duvet from the bed to the fireplace to cover them both she _was_ sleepy. She burrowed against his side, using his shoulder as cushion for her head.

“Seriously, though…” he mumbled, running his fingers through her hair distractedly, slowly drifting off. “They take _a lot_ of room. They’re crowding us. We weren’t like that with Mags, right?”

“Absolutely not.” Effie confirmed. “We were well-behaved.” She stayed silent for a moment and then she brushed her thumb against his side. “I miss her.”

“I know.” he sighed. “I miss her too.”

°O°

_“Because you are wrong and I am right!” she exploded, letting the door of the rink slam shut behind her. She was relieved to glimpse Mags on the ice, they had been looking all over the house for her. It was like she didn’t want to be found. Their trainer stopped skating to turn to them, placing her hands on her hips. “Mags, tell him he is wrong! He is being pig-headed.”_

_“_ I _’m being pig-headed?” Haymitch scoffed behind her, almost pushing her out of the way to get closer to their coach. “Tell her she’s the stubborn one here!”_

_“I don’t know why you are arguing and I do not particularly want to.” Mags snapped. “Training is done for today, why don’t you go do… something else. Elsewhere.”_

_“But we want your opinion.” he argued._

_Effie swatted his arm. “Educated people do not start their sentences with_ but _.”_

_“I’m not educated, you like to tell me a hundred times a day.” he scowled. “Now shut up and listen to Mags when she says you’re an idiot.”_

_“Mags would_ never _say I am an idiot.” she retorted, outraged by the very idea. “You are the only one rude enough in this house to call people names.”_

_“Yeah, me and your dragon of a mother!” he snarled._

_“My mother would_ never _call anyone by nasty names.” she hissed defensively._

_“No, she just_ implies _them, right?” he spat._

_“Mags…” she pleaded for support, turning to their trainer who had left the ice at some point and was now busy unlacing her skates. “Tell him…”_

_“I will tell him nothing, girl.” Mags cut her off. “It is eight p.m. and I listened to you arguing all day. Settle this and do it far from me, you are giving me a headache.”_

_Effie watched, wide eyes, as Mags put on her boots and stormed out –_ fled _their presence almost._

_“Now, you did it, sweetheart.” he scoffed. “She’s angry. Wanna bet she’s going to take it out on us at training tomorrow?”_

_“_ I _did_ nothing _. It is you who is being extremely difficult today.” she growled, turning around to face him and finding herself very much in his space. Anger and annoyance prompted her to take another step forward, jutting her chin in the air. “Why are you being like this? What are you trying to prove?”_

_His mouth crashed on hers before she could even register he was moving. It didn’t matter, in the next moment she had her arms around his neck and she was kissing back almost violently. They hadn’t done that enough times for her to be used to it yet and she squeaked when he lifted her up and pinned her to the wall. That made him chuckle and it infuriated her._

_She punished him by biting down on his bottom lip._

_She could learn to enjoy settling arguments this way, she thought._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Let me know!


	27. Chapter 27

_“Where were you last night?” Effie frowned as he stepped in their bedroom._

_She had cried herself to sleep the previous night and she wasn’t proud of that. But between ranking second at the Olympic Games, Haymitch drinking before their performance and her mother’s phone call… She had been at the end of her tether. He should have stayed though. She knew it wasn’t fair to resent his leaving when she had been screaming like a banshee and very much not wanting to see him at the time but he should have stayed. Waking up alone in bed had been just as hard as waking up and admitting to herself:_ I failed my dream yesterday _._

_“On Mag’s couch.” he said and his voice was strangely flat._

_She wondered if he was angry. That would take the cake, she mused, because if anyone had a right to be angry at the other, it was_ her _. She went about her business, making sure everything was in her bag for the Gala Exhibition that afternoon: the blue dress, two pairs of tights, make-up, pins for her hair, deodorant and the small silk pouch to place her jewelry in during the performance… She briefly brushed her fingers against the charms of her bracelet. It had become an instinctive move of comfort. She was missing her US jacket, she realized, dashing to the chair where she had dropped it the previous night._

_“You should get ready.” she declared when he did nothing but stand there. “It will be time before you know it and I am not leaving the Village without you this time. I would rather you arrive on time.”_

_If he was irritated by the comment, he didn’t show it. She glanced at him, never stopping her mindless buzzing around the room. He was acting odd. His hands were in his pockets and his face was blank._

_“We need to talk.”_

_Those words made her pause and she turned to him, clutching her US jacket to her chest like a shield, suddenly afraid. She didn’t know_ why _she was afraid. There was no reason to be. But the dread was there all the same, coiling in her stomach, more terrible than the first time she had ventured on the ice after her injury._

_“Ominous words.” she joked and it felt flat. She turned to fold her jacket and place it in her bag. “Listen, I won’t pretend I am not angry about you drinking yesterday. Even if it was just a sip. But…”_

_“I’m leaving.” he cut her off._

_“Leaving?” she repeated. “It is not time yet. The shuttle won’t leave for another hour and the gala…”_

_“I’m leaving after the gala.” he clarified. “I’m going back to the States.”_

_She shook her head, forcing things into her bag she didn’t even needed. “We can’t leave before the Closing Ceremony, you know that. It won’t be so long now. I admit I am impatient to go home. I have ideas for training… Mags is right, there will be new Games in four years and…”_

_“And you will need a new partner.” he shrugged. “’Cause I can’t be second best.”_

_The words hit her straight in the chest, like a punch to the plexus. They left her breathless._ Second best _… They seemed to echo her mother’s voice all those times she had warned her she was making a fool of herself by going out there thinking she could win. There was only one champion in the Trinket family and it wasn’t Effie. She wasn’t good enough to win. She wasn’t good enough for a lot of things._

_“You are being very silly.” she laughed. “Your sense of humor really needs to be worked on.”_

_“I’m not… Look, sweetheart, I’m leaving.” he repeated. “You and me… We’re done.”_

_She sat on the bed. She wanted to keep dashing from one end of the room to the other, getting ready, she wanted to_ pretend _she didn’t understand but she understood too well and she couldn’t muster the strength to force a smile on her lips._

_“No, we are not.” she replied calmly. “You are only saying this because of what happened yesterday. You…”_

_“I’m saying this ‘cause I’m done.” He shrugged. “I’m no figure skater. You’ll find better.”_

_“But I don’t need to.” she hissed. “I already have you. You are my partner.”_

_“Not anymore.” he said. “I’ll skate Pokofiev with you but then I’m out of here.”_

_“No, you are not.” She shook her head. “You are_ saying _this but you don’t_ mean _it. We have plans. We are…”_ We are getting married _, she wanted to say but didn’t because as much as they had hinted and joked about it, he had never properly asked her and nothing was set in stone. “We have plans. We will win next time, I promise you. We will win next time, don’t leave me because we lost. Don’t…”_

_“I’m not leaving because we lost.” he sighed. “Well, yeah, I am but… It’s not because of_ you, _Effie. It’s just… It’s not working anymore._ We _’re not working.”_

_She didn’t understand where all this was coming from._ They _were good, they were_ more _than good. They were_ happy _._

_“I have been very focused on the Games lately.” she whispered. “If you feel like I have been less involved in_ us _… Haymitch, I love you.”_

_“I know.” he answered, almost sad. “And I’m sorry.”_

_Somehow, it was the cruelest thing he could have said._

_“You are not leaving.” she snarled, suddenly angry. “You are not breaking up with me right after we lost the Games, you are not_ Seneca _. You wouldn’t do that to me. You_ wouldn’t _. You won’t leave me without a partner after this. You_ won’t _.”_

_“It’s always all about the sport, right? I’m telling you we’re done and your first thought is for skating.” he scowled before shaking his head. “I’ll see you in the shuffle.”_

_“We are not done talking.” she argued, standing up. He ignored her, striding to the door. “_ We are not done talking! _”_

_She grabbed his arm and he shrugged her off, so brutally she stumbled back and had to reach for the wall to steady herself. They glared at each other for a moment and then he was gone, slamming the door shut behind him._

_She slid down the wall and sat there for a long time, convincing herself this was just a feud due to stress and exhaustion. When she stood back up, she firmly believed he didn’t mean any of what he had said._

_Belief was a powerful thing._

_And if there was a falter to her steps…_

_Well…_

_She was great at self-delusion but she wasn’t great at belief._

°O°

“Did we remind the children not to forget their tokens?” Effie fretted, glancing at him in the mirror nailed to the wall of their hotel room. He simply sighed and slipped a long sleeve undershirt on, pleased to notice her eyes lingered on his torso. The abs he used to proudly sport were gone but she still seemed to enjoy his chest. It didn’t distract her long from her worries though. “We can’t be late, there will be no coming back for forgotten items, and it will be bad luck if they don’t bring theirs.”

She had been fretting ever since the alarm clock had buzzed that morning and, Haymitch suspected, half the night before that. They had arrived in Canada the previous day and the perspective of the World Championships had her in a frenzy. To be fair, even though Annie was a tremendous help, looking after four skaters _was_ a hassle and the fact that they all behaved like they were on a family trip didn’t help.

How did people cope with having _real_ children? Johanna and Katniss had argued nonstop during the whole flight: when Jo wasn’t sending gibes and cutting remarks about Peeta her way, Katniss was snarling about Johanna having stolen her ipod or looking through her phone without her permission or something else. Finnick was loud and boisterous and couldn’t sit still for five _fucking_ minutes which meant he had spent the trip roaming the aisles of the plane to the point one of the stewards had told him to _please_ take a seat – that had lasted ten minutes and had necessitated Effie making apologies for him. Annie and Peeta, at least, had been well-behaved and had spent the whole time speaking in hushed voices but Annie was nervous in closed spaces and Haymitch had thought more than once that she would have a panic attack. All in all, he had been sporting the mother of all headaches when they had finally reached the airport. And they were all _of age_.

“Since when do you believe in luck?” he asked, grabbing at random a woolen sweater from his suitcase. It was navy blue and the golden bangle remained stuck in the sleeve, forcing him to wriggle to free his hand.

“I don’t really.” she replied, checking her make-up to make sure it was perfect. “But we are a team and we should go as such. People are talking enough as it is.”

People _had_ been talking even though another apparition on Caesar’s talk-show had gone a long way in shedding light on the situation. It was unusual for the same trainers to register two couples and some people – led, no doubt, by Elindra – were whispering that all Effie and Haymitch cared about was having a victory on their resumes even if they had to steal Mags’ legacy for that because their own kids wouldn’t cut it in a real competition. Those same people thought they should have left to someone else the task of representing Jo and Finnick. Caesar, though, had been supportive, sympathizing with the loss of Mags and understanding of the fact that it had less to do with the sport itself than all of them being somehow linked through their former trainer. They were family, Haymitch had declared on Caesar’ talk-show, and that had ended the debate as far as he had been concerned.

“You’ve got no token.” he accused, slowly creeping closer to her.

She patted her hair with a frown, her fingers trailing on the butterfly hairclip. “Of course, I do.”

She had extended the token thing to the rest of the team. Johanna had been treated to small gold earrings, Finnick now had a golden pendent in the form of a trident and Annie had been given a thin bracelet that had made Haymitch grumble about his own manacle.

“It’s not gold.” he argued. “Everyone has something _gold_.”

“Well, it is _golden_.” she huffed. “And I have my golden nail polish and I even could find golden heels in there somewhere… I am sure I packed them.” She turned to her suitcase with a frown and he rolled his eyes, coming to stand behind her before she could move and placing his hands on her hips.

“Can you take a _fucking_ hint already?” he complained. “You need a gold token so…”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, watching him in the mirror, a smile stretching her lips. “Is that your convoluted way of saying you have a gift for me?”

He had a history with her and gifts. There was the charm bracelet he had tossed at her from the other end of the room, there had been dresses he had left on her bed before hiding at the other end of the house, there had been little things… He liked giving her gifts, he didn’t like the thanking part, it was awkward and embarrassing. He didn’t buy her gifts to be thanked.

“You need a token.” he repeated, almost muttering. He took a hand off her waist to bury it deep in his pocket, his fingers closed around the tatty velvet box. They drummed on it for a second before he found the strength to take it out of his pocket. “It’s just…” He shrugged as she turned around and he forced it in her hands. “You’ll probably hate it.”

Effie was strangely silent. Her eyes darted from the obviously old jewelry box and back to him. She didn’t open it. “Are you proposing?”

“You don’t even know what’s inside.” he scoffed. “Could be earrings…”

“Except it is not, is it?” she countered softly. “Are you… Are you proposing?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, annoyed that she had to make everything so complicated. “Just open the _damned_ box.”

She did it with a slowness that almost killed him. She didn’t say _anything_. Her eyes remained downcast on the ring, her face hidden by the strands of hair that weren’t tied back by the hairclip. Silence stretched for a long endless minute.

“I knew you would hate it.”  he mumbled. “Well, you can wear it anyway. Serves you right for forcing that bangle on me.”

“I do not hate it. On the contrary I… It is _perfect_.” she whispered and he was stunned, when she looked up, to see tears in her eyes. “Is that why you went back to Richmond?”

“Yeah.” he admitted, averting his own eyes because he was uncomfortable with the open display of emotion on her face. “Mags said…” And then he stopped. Because… “How do you know I had this in Richmond?”

She answered that question with a question of her own. “Was it supposed to be my engagement ring?”

Her fingers brushed over the ring without taking it out of the box. It had a big square diamond – because it was Effie Trinket and she loved her shiny stones – held in place by three thin golden ring covered with tinier diamonds. It was flat because he had thought otherwise she would have needed to take it off every day to work. He had wanted it practical as well as to her tastes which was why it had taken so long to find the perfect ring. It looked a little like a crown too which he and Chaff had found funny because he kept calling her _Princess…_

“How do you know about that?” he insisted.

She hadn’t known in Japan, he was sure of it. They had _talked_ about it but she hadn’t known he had a ring. She hadn’t, _had she_?”

“Chaff told me.” she confessed. “He thought I had said no. That it was why…” She waved that off. “Did you keep it all those years?”

“Had it with me when I went to Europe.” he sighed, turning his back on her, pretending to check the phone he had tossed on the nightstand earlier and hardly ever bothered with anyway. “Then when I came back… I tossed it in a drawer. Symbolic or some _shit_. Felt like it was over for good. Started drinking myself into a hole for real too.”

“Haymitch, we lost _so much_ time…” she breathed out.

“Yeah.” he snorted. “Anyway, I’m not… I’m not saying let’s get hitched, Princess. It’s just… The ring’s yours. Always was. So… You should have it. And it’s gold… Might as well be your token.”

“You don’t want to get married anymore?” she hesitated. “Eventually.”

This conversation had been awkward in the past but now…

“I don’t know… We’re old. Seems a little stupid, no?” he winced, turning to face her. She was still holding the box and had made no move to take the ring out of it.

“I want to.” she declared. “I don’t care if it seems stupid. We can have a small private thing. We can even have it in the garden or in the rink… As long as I am allowed a real wedding dress, I don’t mind if we keep it private. I want it. I wanted it fifteen years ago and I want it now.”

“So _you_ ’re proposing now?” he snorted.

“Yes.” she said firmly. “Yes, I am proposing.”

He was a little taken aback but her eyes were searching his, so blue and so intense that he found himself shrugging. “Okay then.” She let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh and she crossed the distance between them in three big steps. Her kiss was brief and almost urgent and then she wrapped her arms around his neck. He hugged her close, pressing a kiss of his own on her throat. “I’ll get you another ring.”

“No.” she refused, shaking her head. She dropped her arms and handed him the box, her voice strained and tears still clouding her eyes. “I want this one. Do it. Do it like you were going to do it all those years ago.”

“I was going to do it on the podium, sweetheart.” he cringed. “On the ice. Always was your happy place so…”

“Anywhere is my happy place when I am with you.” she breathed out. “I should have made that clearer. I should have told you more often. It wouldn’t have mattered where or when you did it, it doesn’t matter now. It would have been perfect anywhere. I love you _so much_ …”

“Fifteen more years, you’re going to look back and give me grief I proposed in a hotel room.” he chuckled. “I _know_ it.”

“We were in a hotel room the first time you proposed.” Her smile was bright. “And I just _love_ the idea of us in fifteen years. I am sure I will have enough reasons to be mad at you not to nitpick at proposals.”

“That wasn’t a proposal.” he argued, because the first time they had actually talked about marriage _hadn’t_ been him _asking_. “That was… Testing the waters.”

“Of course.” she laughed and it had a hysterical edge to it. “Are you going to do it anytime soon, Haymitch? _Truly_ it isn’t done to make a lady wait. Never mind _fifteen years._ How _rude_.”

He rolled his eyes, turning the box in his hands. “I’m not going to _ask_ you, you already said yes. And I’m not popping down on one knee either.”

“Put this ring on my finger _right now_ or _so help me_.” she ordered.

He couldn’t suppress a fond smirk as he _finally_ took the ring out of the box and grabbed her left hand. He didn’t slip it on right away, he stared at her fingers instead. “Mags said you’re my one in a million. Sweetheart…”

“I love you too.” she hummed. “ _Please_ , put the ring on. I want to say _I’m_ _engaged_.”

He laughed, he couldn’t help it. In that moment, she was too much like the twenty year old girl who used to mock him about toe pick and being unable to do a simple loop jump. He slipped that ring on her finger, where it had always been intended to go, and then brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“Here’s looking at you, kid.” he joked.

She laughed but she was crying at the same time when she jumped in his arms.

“No more Bogart.” she commanded, dropping kisses on his neck, jaw and mouth only to stop and admire her ring before doing it all over again. “I _love_ it. I love _you_. We are getting _married_.”

“Small and private.” he reminded her, somehow sensing it was a lost battle.

She bit on her bottom lip, grinning _hard_. “See? I got my gold after all.”

He shook his head at her in fondness and captured her lips for a real kiss that left them both breathless.

He had been waiting fifteen years for that kiss.

°O°

There were tears blurring her sight and Katniss was cursing herself for being so emotional. This was supposed to be all for Prim, a job to get her sister through college, but… She had become invested somewhere along the line and now all she could do was bite down on her bottom lip as the golden medal was passed around her neck.

She clung to Peeta’s hand as much out of happiness as because she was scared of losing her balance and falling off the podium. They were still in their black costume, still dressed in the star-crossed lovers outfits, and she thought she had never been so happy.

On the third step of the podium, Johanna caught her eyes and winked. She had been scared Jo and Finnick would be put out by their victory but the moment it had became obvious Katniss and Peeta _were_ winning, they had both jumped on them, simply happy to share the joy of the moment. A _true_ team. Beside, given the season they had and Johanna’s injury, third wasn’t bad.

“We’re World Champions.” she whispered to Peeta as he helped her down the podium after they were done with the pictures, still slightly dazed.

“We’re World Champions.” he grinned back.

For a moment she was taken back to Richmond and the rink they used to share with the hockey team… It seemed like another lifetime away. She automatically turned to the space reserved for trainers, knowing they would never have gotten there if not for Haymitch and Effie. They were too busy to pay attention to their skaters though: Effie was grinning like a maniac – hadn’t stopped since the previous day, Peeta and Finnick had decided it had to do with the ring on her left hand but Johanna and Katniss were still unconvinced it meant anything because she had tons of jewelry – running her hand up and down the front of Haymitch’s coat to smooth creases while Haymitch was smirking down at her, his eyes twinkling. He looked happy. That, too, would never have happened in Richmond.

“We’re World Champions.” she said again, completely stunned. “And you love me.”

His eyebrows shot up because he had never said it in so many words before but then his grin morphed into a softer smile. “We’re World Champions and I love you.” He tugged on her hand, the skates did the rest. She glided closer to him, letting him kiss her for everyone to see. “And you love me. Real or not real?”

“Real.” she murmured against his lips.

Somehow, it was more important than the gold medal around her neck and she knew he felt the same way.

Competitions were all very good…

But there were much better games to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left! I'm a bit emotional! I hope you enjoyed this one! See you next week for the epilogue!


	28. Chapter 28

_One Year Later_

* * *

 

“Haymitch, Effie, I am _delighted_ to have you back with us today.” Caesar smiled at them and Haymitch found himself swallowing back a sigh at what would, no doubt, be a long and painful interview. “It’s been two seasons since you’ve made your surprised comeback and… The first thing I need to ask is… How was Sotchi?”

“Cold.” Effie giggled. “And eventful.”

“Yes, I can imagine.” the host laughed with her. “Still… Your first Olympic Games as trainers… How did that go?”

“Not so bad.” Haymitch snorted. “We _did_ come back with gold and silver.”

°O°

_“I think you had a point all those years.” Haymitch mocked, leaning against the doorframe. “This room just lacked a few more medals.”_

_Effie glared at him from where she was crouching in the trophy room, trying to make the new case stand straight. They had been moving furniture around and she was certain her father wouldn’t be happy when he would come back to find his office_ completely _turned into a trophy room this time around. The desk and the bookshelves had been moved to one of the upper rooms. She needed space to put up cases for Katniss and Peeta’s trophies as well as Finnick and Johanna’s. The children had a tendency to leave them in heaps on top of their dressers and medals should be_ displayed _._

_All the more so when they were Olympics._

_She had rearranged everything so her mother’s trophies were on one side, hers on the other and the children’s in between. The black and white poster of her and Haymitch was on the wall, the first thing you saw when you walked into the room. She actually liked it better now. It felt less like a competition between her and her mother, displays of victories and failures, and more like memories to be proud of, memories that should be_ cherished _._

_“I noticed you are letting me do all the work.” she pointed out._

_“I was changing diapers. You want to do that, be my guest.” he scoffed. “That kid can poop and his parents seem to_ mysteriously _disappear every time he needs a_ fucking _diaper change.”_

_“Language.” She clicked her tongue in disapproval and stood up, admiring her work. “What do you think?”_

_He walked in, his eyes stopping on the poster before darting around. Eventually, he came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, propping his chin on her shoulder as he stared at the 2014 Games medals their children had brought back._

_The last year hadn’t been easy._

_Coming back as Word Champions was a hard title to uphold as Katniss and Peeta had experienced, as for Johanna and Finnick, they were at the end of their competition days and they knew it. Their silver medal had been valiantly fought for and she was proud of the work they had accomplished._

_“You know….” she hummed, studying Katniss and Peeta’s golden medals. “_ We _may not have won these medals ourselves but I feel as if we have all the same. I think that is something my mother never understood… Our children winning doesn’t make us less of who we were, if anything it makes us_ more _because we brought them here.”_

_“You’re getting wise.” he teased. “Don’t think too hard, you’re going to hurt your brain.”_

_“Awful man!” she laughed, whacking his arm._

_“Shouldn’t have married me.” he snorted, pressing a kiss against her neck. “I’m gonna miss the desk though, sweetheart. I liked the desk.”_

_“You liked having sex on the desk.” she corrected._

_“Yeah.” he smirked. “That too.”_

°O°

“You _did_.” Caesar nodded with a smile. “I must say, your skaters did our country proud. Katniss and Peeta were magnificent as always. And Finnick and Johanna… Such _precision_. Mags would have been so proud of them…”

“She truly would have been.” Effie smiled, a little sad.

“I think I can safely assume she would have been proud of the two of you too.” he added.

Haymitch glanced at her and smirked.

°O°

_“Good morning.” she hummed, half giggling, as his hands slipped underneath her nightgown._

_He smirked. “I’m sure_ trying _to make it a good one, sweetheart.” She laughed and rolled on her back to give him better access, accepting the kiss he planted on her lips. He felt her mouth stretch into a grin and he drew back a little, brushing her hair away from her face. “Come on, say it. You’re dying to.”_

_The smile burst forth, just as wild and euphoric as it had been in their twenties. “We are twice World Champions!” She rolled her eyes. “Well,_ the children _are twice World Champions.” she amended. “And Johanna and Finnick did well too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing almost tight enough to suffocate him in her enthusiasm. “We are qualified for the Olympics! We are going to the Olympics!”_

_He chuckled and kissed her again, amused by how childish she could still be about all of that. “You brought them here.”_

_“_ We _brought them here.” she corrected against his mouth. “I am so proud of them. All of them.”_

_He nuzzled her neck. “I’m proud of us.”_

_“Us, you and me, or us, everyone?” she asked._

_“Both.” he answered. And he meant it._

°O°

“I can’t say Johanna and Finnick’s decision was truly a surprise…” Caesar went on. “But could you shed some light as to why they decided to retire from competitions? They had a full career and I am sure a lot of beautiful opportunities are waiting for them but I personally think they could have gone another year or two?”

“I think when it is time for you to bow down, you know it, Caesar.” Effie replied with a polite smile. “And I think it takes a lot of courage to stop while you are at your best. It is difficult to keep up with fresh blood coming up every year.”

“That’s for sure.” the host nodded. “But I was wondering if the recent changes in Finnick’s life had influenced that decision at all… His wedding to Annie Cresta last year made a lot of people talk…”

°o°

_Being summoned to her own living-room wasn’t something Effie particularly enjoyed but the text she had received from Finnick had been specific. It called for an urgent group meeting in the smallest living-room at two p.m. sharp. She met Peeta on the way there but when she asked if he knew what it was about, the boy simply shrugged._

_The children had come back from their respective holidays only the day before – and that very morning in Katniss and Peeta’s case – ready to start training for the next season. It would be an Olympic year and Effie was bursting with ideas to make training that little bit more challenging, that little be more effective. She and Haymitch had been talking routines, figures, wow and risk factors for weeks now. They had browsed possible songs in small coffee shops in Paris, they had talked about themes and possible character pieces as they had strolled along the Seine, they had discussed the children’s respective strengths and weaknesses as they toured the Louvres – and they had agreed to leave work behind for the rest of their honeymoon when they had kissed under the Eiffel Tower._

_Haymitch, Katniss and Johanna were already there, bickering about something or other as was the norm. Peeta dropped on the couch next to Katniss, greeting her with a bright big smile that was rewarded by a smaller but no less sincere one. Johanna rolled her eyes, muttering about how she hadn’t missed being surrounded by lovey-dovey couples all the time. Effie perched herself on the armrest of Haymitch’s armchair, answering his wink with a disapproving pout – riling Katniss and Johanna up was one of his favorite hobbies._

_Annie and Finnick came in at that point, hand in hand, and glowing just as much as they had been when she had picked them up from the airport the previous day. They looked even more in love than usual and it made Effie smile to look at them._

_“Oh, you’re already all here.” Finnick grinned._

_“Can we get the show on the road already?” Johanna sighed._

_Effie’s eyes snapped to the young woman, not exactly surprised that she seemed to know what it was about – she was his partner after all – but wondering at the slight apprehension on Jo’s face._

_“What’s this about?” Haymitch frowned._

_Finnick looked at Annie and then at Jo with a small wince. “Do you want to…”_

_Johanna rolled her eyes, slumping a little further down her own armchair, glaring at everyone with a defiant attitude. “We’re retiring from competitions after this year. Sotchi will be our last._ If _we get there.”_

_“What?” Katniss frowned._

_“You can’t!” Peeta protested._

_“You’re sure, kids? You’ve got a couple of years ahead of you still…” Haymitch intervened and Effie sensed it would quickly turn into chaos so she placed her hand on his shoulder._

_“I do not think they are done.” she cut in, making everyone fall silent._

_Jo shrugged and nodded at Finnick and Annie. “That’s for_ you _to say.”_

_Finnick and Annie exchanged a long look and small tender smiles._

_Instinctively, Effie squeezed Haymitch’s shoulder in excitement. He shot her a look that clearly meant she was crazy but she didn’t even mind because she could make an educated guess and there was_ a ring _on Annie’s hand that hadn’t been there before…_

_“We eloped this summer.” Finnick declared with a happy smile._

That _wasn’t what Effie had thought he would say. Engagement, yes. Elopement?_

_“You got married without us?” she clarified, hurt and a little disappointed._

_“I was there.” Jo snorted._

_“You could have said.” Katniss sulked. “We would have come.”_

_Haymitch rolled his eyes. “Come on, enough whining. That’s good, right? Who cares if we were there or not…”_

_“We would have liked you to be there but it was kind of a spur of the moment thing…” Finnick apologized. “And Haymitch and Effie were in Paris…”_

_“We would have come back.” Effie insisted._

_“And we didn’t want to spoil your honeymoon.” the boy retorted. “And like I said… Spur of the moment. We grabbed Jo and we went.”_

_“On the beach.” Johanna snorted. “You would have_ loved _it, Trinket. Classier than your garden thing.”_

_“Anyway…” Finnick cut in again, shooting a warning glare to his partner. “There’s more.”_

_“More than you quitting competitions and getting married?” Katniss scoffed._

_“Oh!” Peeta gasped before a wide grin burst on his lips._

_“Oh, indeed.” Haymitch smirked._

_Effie simply frowned. “What is it? Why are you all saying_ oh _?”_

_Katniss looked just as confused as she was._

_“We are expecting.” Annie said softly, placing a hand on her stomach._

_“Oh!” Effie squealed, bolting to her feet to embrace them. “Oh, how delightful! We need to start planning a baby shower! And a nursery! We will need a nursery! And clothes and…”_

_“Would you breathe?” Haymitch scoffed, tearing her away from the both of them so he could clasp Finnick’s shoulder and take his turn hugging Annie. “You’re crowding the kids. It’s their baby, not yours.”_

_“Well, maybe you should do something about that while she still can.” Johanna joked._

_“We’ve already got our hands full with the lot of you.” he retorted smoothly._

_There was a tinge of disappointment but Effie chased it away._

_They had enough of an extended family anyway._

°O°

“Finnick and Annie are very happy.” Effie replied firmly. “They are a charming little family and they are dotting parents. Little Finn is a delight to have in the house, truth be told. I am afraid we are all quite wrapped around his little finger.”

“I can imagine.” Caesar laughed. “What about Katniss and Peeta? Can you tell us what they are planning to do?”

“Take a holiday.” Haymitch snorted. “It’s been a long season.”

Long but not as difficult as their first one in a professional competition setting had been. They worked well together now, they were a well-oiled machine. And as far as Haymitch could tell, they were happy together.

“And next year?” the host insisted. “Can we be assured to see them back for the next season?”

“Why, we are certainly aiming at a third World Champions title.” Effie declared.

Haymitch smirked. “You know, Effie, she’s the overachiever.”

“I _do_ know Effie indeed.” Caesar chuckled. “And if you have set your eyes on another World title, I am certain we will meet again next year to celebrate.”

“At last someone trusts in my abilities.” she joked, patting Haymitch’s arm. “Do you see? That is what _being supportive_ looks like.”

“I’m supportive.” he snorted. “I’m supportive of the kids you will try to kill during training and of _me_ who will have to follow them ‘cause you’ll drag me jogging and what not.”

“You are a drama queen.” she accused, before turning back to Caesar. “I can assure you Katniss and Peeta plan to be competing for a few seasons yet. We are not ruling out the next Olympic Games.”

The host was looking at them with this particular twinkle in his eyes and Haymitch inwardly sighed, knowing what would follow.

“Well…” Caesar said. “We talked about Mason and Odair, we talked about Everdeen and Mellark… Isn’t it time we talk about Fire and Ice?”

“This ship has sailed.” Effie shook her head. “I am afraid we are not very interesting to talk about.”

“An _interesting_ _thing_ took place last summer and you have been _very_ good at eluding questions about it.” the host pressed, clucking his tongue in mocked disapproval. “No confirmation or denial… And yet there are rings on your hands.”

“That’s our private life.” Haymitch cut in. “And we like our private life _private_.”

“But you did get married, did you not?” Caesar stated, placing a hand over his heart in mocked pain. “And _without_ inviting me, I must add. I thought we had an understanding, Haymitch… Wasn’t I supposed to cover your wedding?”

Effie sighed, searched his eyes and when he shrugged, she breathed out. “It was a small affair. We truly did not want a fuss.”

“Still think we don’t have the same idea about _small_.” Haymitch snorted.

°o°

_He and Effie_ didn’t _have the same idea about what_ small _looked like._

_Not that he was surprised really._

_His idea of small was them finding the nearest justice of the  peace willing to marry them, probably with the kids, and be done with it. When he had suggested it she had laughed in his face, had kissed him on the lips and promised she would come up with something he wouldn’t_ hate _. So far, he didn’t_ hate it _. At least, she had kept to the private part of the deal._

_She had turned Aspen’s backyard into a wedding scene – Johanna had suggested they should get married in the rink, on the ice, which he had actually found funny and could have gone behind but Effie had glared so hard he had lifted his hands in surrender and told her to do whatever she wanted as long as he didn’t have to do anything. There was a huge arch with lace and white balloons and flowers_ everywhere _, chairs forming a small aisle leading up to the arch…_

_He shuffled on his feet awkwardly, uncomfortable standing there, under everyone’s eyes, waiting for the ceremony to actually start._

_Johanna and Finnick were already sitting first row, with Peeta and Plutarch just behind them – Katniss, Annie and Prim had been roped into being bridesmaids, Johanna had not so politely declined. There were two empty chairs on the other side of the aisle that were supposed to be reserved for Elindra and Tadius. Elindra had been invited – he had kept his peace on the subject because she was still her mother and he figured it was normal that Effie wanted her there – but had declined  to attend. Her precise words had been: “marry him and you might as well take his name because I certainly won’t let you tarnish mine anymore, I have a legacy to uphold”. As far as ultimatums went, it was ridiculous. Effie had decided she would keep her maiden name just to spite her. The other chair remained empty for now._

_“You’re nervous?” Chaff asked, clapping him on the shoulder._

_He was nervous about the whole circus of getting married in front of everyone. Everything else… He was sure of everything else._

_“Not really.” he shrugged._

_“Good, ‘cause if you had tried to run I would have kicked your ass back here.” his best man chuckled. “That woman is the love of your life and you were an idiot to let her go in the first place.”_

_“Preaching to the choir.” he snorted._

_“Well, I am happy to hear that.” a male voice declared and Haymitch startled, turning around to find himself face to face with Tadius. The man was in a tuxedo, a yellow rose pinned to his front pocket, looking as impeccable as ever._

_“You came.” Haymitch said, relaxing a little. “Good. She’ll be happy.”_

_Tadius had said he would try, which, as he remembered from their shared youth, meant he wouldn’t be there at all. Effie had been neither surprised nor disappointed, she had been expecting it._

_“I wasn’t about to miss giving my only daughter away, Haymitch.” Tadius replied with a small smile. His expression soon turned serious. “Be sure to make a better job at keeping her happy this time around or I swear I will sue you for everything you have worth. Now, where is Euphemia?”_

_“In the house.” he answered. “Our room.”_

_A room he had been chased from two days earlier – bad luck to see the bride the day before the wedding or something._

_“It’s the lamest ‘if your hurt her’ speech I’ve ever heard.” Chaff commented._

_“Yeah.” he granted. “Finnick’s was better.”_

_He spared a thought for Mags who would have probably given him a terrifying speech about hurting Effie and would have given Effie the same one about hurting him… Mags should have been there, he thought. She would have been if they had done this fifteen years earlier._

_People filled the remaining empty chairs, guided by Prim – why Effie had wanted to invite Enobaria and Brutus was anyone’s guess but Brutus, at least, looked happy enough to be there, waving at Haymitch from the back row._

_“You never said you had a gorilla friend.” Chaff laughed._

_Soon enough everyone was settled and they were ready to start. The music picked up, traditional and classic – he only had a vague idea about how the whole thing would go since he hadn’t wanted to go into details such as music, food or entertainment. If Effie wanted a party, she could organize it. He wasn’t surprised by her choice of music to walk up the aisle._

_He watched Prim, Katniss and Annie slowly come up first, enclosed in their pink bridesmaids dresses with their small bouquets. Prim and Katniss took their seat in the audience but Annie remained under the arch since she was the maid of honor._

_He waited for Effie to appear but she didn’t. The song finished and people started whispering._

_“Tell me she’s not pulling a runaway bride act…” Chaff muttered. “I swear I’ll kick_ her _ass back here.”_

_“I don’t know.” he frowned. “I should go see…”_

_He took one step down the aisle when Bon Jovi burst through the speakers and she appeared. Everyone looked puzzled but Haymitch simply started laughing like an idiot._

Only her _, he thought,_ only her…

_She advanced down that aisle like a queen, barely holding on to her father’s arm – who looked appalled that his perfect daughter could get married on rock and roll – a bright satisfied  grin on her face. She looked beautiful like he knew she would. The dress was all lace and pearls and he loved it._

_He couldn’t stop smiling as her father let her go and she took her place next to him._

_“I am told I give love a bad name.” she declared, her eyes twinkling, as the music slowly faded to an end. “I thought I should honor that.”_

_He shook his head, amazed that she could still surprise him and amazed that she was his to keep._

_“Marry me.” he demanded._

_“That is certainly the plan…” she grinned._

°o°

“I am happy to see you two so happy.” Caesar declared, putting an end to their shared moment. “I must say I am partial to love stories that end well. And yours… Well, yours had always seemed to me the stuff of legends.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Haymitch snorted.

The host shook his head with a small indulgent smile. “It is time for us to part now but I certainly wish you the best.”

“Oh, I think the best is yet to come.” Effie answered softly with a secret smile for Haymitch.

He smiled back in answer, his eyes automatically falling on the charm bracelet on the hand she was rubbing her stomach with. He had brought more charms in the last year: Olympic rings, a baby bottle for Finn, a small bride and groom, a white stork…

“Well, dear viewers, this concludes today’s show!” Caesar called to the cameras. “Until next time!”

**_ The End _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooo sad to see this story end... "As Time Goes By" will go on for a little more but I still find it very sad to say goodbye to Fire & Ice. It was just a crack idea and I didn't expect anyone to like it. It brought me amazing friends and it became a very special story to me. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter, let me know what you thought!
> 
> There will be a new hayffie story next week called "The Dragon and The Mockingjay". It's based on Archervale (you can find her on tumblr and deviant art) 's drawings of Haymitch and Effie taking care of toddler Peeta and Katniss. It will be a modern au and I hope to see you there!

**Author's Note:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Let me know!


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